


Spores

by ruderouge



Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: Alternate Universe - Zombie Apocalypse, Angst, Blood and Gore, Cannibalism, Character Death, F/F, F/M, Grief/Mourning, Gun Violence, Jean is a bby, M/M, Mutual Pining, Night Terrors, Nightmares, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, POV Marco Bott, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Slow Burn, The Last of Us AU, Zombies
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-04-09
Updated: 2019-01-29
Packaged: 2019-04-20 11:00:03
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 5
Words: 36,396
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14259513
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ruderouge/pseuds/ruderouge
Summary: The year is 2032, 13 years after a deadly pandemic swept the nation and Marco Bodt has come across some unexpected cargo that he's meant to smuggle in and out of the once great city of Boston, MA. Through many trials and tribulations, hardships and happiness, he soon discovers that, no matter what, you always find something to fight for.(I suck at summaries)(In short the TLOU au that no one asked for)





	1. Outbreak

I woke up in the middle of the night to a freezing bedroom and an extremely dry mouth. I instinctively reached for the water bottle on my nightstand only to find it irritatingly empty. Great. Rolling onto my other side I was greeted with the harsh neon-blue of my digital clock that read 11:53pm.

Okay so not as late as I thought it was. 

Tousling my hair, I got up and pulled on some track pants and a t shirt before moving to the window to pull it shut. Police sirens were blaring somewhere as well as the sound of people shouting, though it was a Friday night and they didn’t sound very close by so neglected to ignore them and shut the window. 

Making my way downstairs I heard that the television was on. Joel must still be up. Not that that was surprising, he often stayed up late on weekends with Tommy, a close friend of the family. I was, however, surprised to find Mina asleep on the couch, mouth hung open with a string of drool running down her chin. I held down a laugh as I crept towards one of the armchairs and grabbed a pillow before throwing it at her. She woke up confused and sputtering but sent a harsh glare in my direction when she saw me grinning at her. She reeled her arm fully back to dramatically throw the pillow back at me but stuck her bottom lip out in disappointment when it landed at my feet. 

Shaking my head, I rounded towards the kitchen to get a glass of water. “What are you still doing up?” I called to her. 

“I’m waiting for my dad.” So, Joel wasn’t in yet? And no, Joel was not my dad, my dad was hauled up in a prison somewhere I couldn’t care less. No, he was in fact my uncle which made Mina my cousin but spending my whole life beside her and growing up with her made her more of a sister to me. 

Walking back to the couch where Mina sat blearily watching the television I sat down drinking my water. 

She then turned to me, giving me one of her signature smiles and I tried not to grin at the gap between her two front teeth. She was due to get braces next week anyway so that wouldn’t be there for much longer, so I had to apricate it while it lasted. “Have you had a good birthday?” 

I had almost forgotten that it was my birthday. Yup, 14 today. Joel had kept saying how ‘I’d be a grown man soon’ and that ‘all the ladies will be after me’ while patting my back and messing up my hair. As much as I expressed my embarrassment about him saying that kind of stuff, it was useless to get him to stop and seemed to even spur him on more. 

I smiled back at Mina. “Yeah, I have. I’ve had a great day,” I answered and found myself glancing thoughtfully at the watch that hung on my wrist, a gift from my uncle. “Even if Thomas Wagner took almost half of the cake.”

Holding her stomach laughing Mina replied, “It was him?! I thought it was that Jackson kid, you know that one with the big, ginger hair.” She splayed her fingers outwards on the sides of her head near her ears, wiggling them in a wild gesture. I didn’t quite understand what she was going for, but it was funny anyway, so I found myself laughing regardless. 

At some point the both of us fell asleep on the couch. 

 

I woke up abruptly for the second time that night, this time for a phone ringing on the kitchen counter. I recognised the ringtone as Joel’s and realised he must have forgotten it when he went out. Mina had sat up beside me and stood up on wobbly legs as she walked towards the kitchen to answer the phone. Though in her sleepy state the ringing stops before she can get to it. 

I glance at the clock on the wall; 2:27am. Why wasn’t Joel back yet?

Mina’s walking back to the couch with her dad’s phone in hand, a confused look on her face. I hold my hand out towards her in question and she hands me the device.

9 missed calls. 4 unread messages, all from Tommy. _‘Joel are you home yet?’. ‘Where are you?!’. ‘You were supposed to call me when you got home!’. ‘Are the kids okay??’._

____

Alarm bells are going off in my head. Why’s, Where’s and What’s all screaming at me as I sat in confusion. 

I turn my attention to the television that Mina had flicked back at some point while I was looking through the phone. The news is the channel she turned to and a reporter is facing the camera while armed guards stand at a distance behind her in front of a building that looks to be barred off. She mentions something about a gas leak, but I can’t focus properly on what she’s saying exactly, my mind puzzled. The soldiers suddenly turn around and then sprint forward, shouting at people to move back and run. The reporter is pushed forward along with the crowd and the building that stood behind them explodes. 

That explosion sounded far closer than it should have. 

“Marco, look!” Mina shouts to me as she runs to the kitchen to look out of the window. I follow her and see that somewhere in the city a building is up in flames, clouds of thick smoke rising upwards from where the explosion once was. Above I spot several helicopters flying above, their search lights surveying the ground below. 

I’m about the pull Mina away from the window and into the living room where I can call Tommy and find out what the fuck is going on when we both see Joel running across the backyard to the back of the house. He hurriedly slides the screen door open and locks it, wasting no time before moving to the desk opposite him and pulling a small metal briefcase out of one of the drawers. 

“Dad, what’s going on?” Mina enquires as I stand beside her. 

Joel pulls out a handgun out of the small case along with some ammo he stuffs into his pocket, almost dropping them on the floor in the process with how fast his hands are moving. 

“It’s the Wagner’s. Something ain’t right with them. I think- I think they’re sick.”

I speak up at that, “Sick? What do you mean sick?”

He’s about to answer when something heavy slams against the screen door and Mina lets out a small screech. It’s a person, crashing against the glass with their whole weight and body, desperately clawing, scratching, trying to break through. 

Joel stands in front of Mina and I, gun in hand, pushing us behind him and putting himself between us and who I recognize to be Steven Wagner, who lives only a few houses down. 

After a few more heavy thuds by Mr. Wagner the screen door caves in, glass shards flying everywhere as his convulsing body falls to the floor, grunting and wailing inhumanly.  
Joel is saying something to him, gun raised, but I cannot comprehend it. 

Steven Wagner crawls towards us and hurries up off the ground, the sounds coming from him increasing in volume. Joel is still trying to reason with the thing hurrying towards us, but all his attempts are in vain. 

My ears ring with tremendously at the three gunshots from Joel’s handgun that pierce the chest in front of us and Steven Wagner’s body falls lifeless to the floor. My arms are around Mina at this point and I can feel how hard she is breathing. She must be so scared. I jump slightly at the small squeak that comes from her. 

“You- You shot him.”

Joel runs a hand through his salt-and-pepper locks before he spins around and crouches in front of us, dropping the gun and grabbing one of mine and Mina’s shoulders in each hand. “Sweetie, I had to. Something’s wrong, I don’t know what. They said it was something from the city, some virus or-” He’s cut short by the sound of a car horn outside.  
“That’ll be Tommy.” 

He quickly gets up and ushers us towards the front of the house, stopping along the way the grab a hoodie for us each from the laundry basket in the kitchen, of which we pull on the minute the chill air hits us when out the door.

Tommy sits in the driver’s seat of his rusted, grey truck and gestures for us to hurry up. I open one of the doors for the backseat and get Mina inside before following in after her, being sure to lock the door behind me. Joel is in the passenger seat up front. Tommy reverses onto the road before driving off at speed. 

We don’t bother with seatbelts. There’s too much going on right now that none of us even think about the small things like that. 

“Head towards the highway, get some distance between us and the city,” Joel tells Tommy who nods in acknowledgement and makes a right turn in the direction of the highway. 

We passed a small family huddled at the side of the road, the father stepping out and flailing his arms in attempt to grab our attention in hopes that we’d stop for them.  
Tommy brought up the option of stopping and letting them in, we had the room, but Joel made no room for discussion. 

“They could be sick.” 

After a long pause Mina spoke up. “Are we sick?” 

Joel turned in his seat to face her, “No, honey, no. No, we’re not sick. Word is it’s only those in the city that are sick.”

I leaned forward and asked, “Didn’t Mr. Wagner work in the city?” 

Joel took a sharp intake of breath and sighed, turning back around to face the front. 

“That’s right he did.” 

 

We finally make it to the highway, although it seems that everyone else had the same idea. Red lights from the back of cars blur together in front to form a dark hue surrounding the area. The cars are backed up for what seems like miles and none appear to be moving. The guy in front is losing his patience, honking his horn repeatedly and evidently aware of the great amount of good that will do him. 

He steps out of his car and shouts at the drivers in the other cars, hand still reaching inside to continue honking his horn. 

Our eyes then dart to the side of the road where two people sprint out, running the same way Steven Wagner did, wailing and crying out. The quicker of the two tackles the rowdy driver into his car, the driver’s legs desperately kicking and pushing the man away. 

He’s screaming at this point, at the top of his lungs and I can’t tell if it’s because he’s terrified or because he’s in pain. It’s far too dark to tell what’s going on, even with the headlights shining from Tommy’s truck. I feel Mina shrink into her seat beside me. She’s probably pressing her hands to her ears and squeezing her eyes shut, and, as much as I want to reassure her, I can’t take my eyes off the display in front of me. 

The second one stopped and instead turned to face us. I clenched the seat in front of me. It breaks into a sprint, limbs flying and slams against the bonnet, hands clawing against the metal. It manages to grab one of the windshield wipers, and uses it as leverage, pulling itself up and closer towards the window.

Tommy messed with the gear stick in a panicked state before hurriedly reversing and spinning the truck, causing the man on the front to fall to the ground as we span off.  
Tommy drove down a small road I knew lead to the outskirts of the city. As much as I hated the idea of going anywhere near the city, I trusted he knew what he was doing and so didn’t question it. 

Heards of people ran in every direction with no clear indication of where they were going, which made it extremely difficult to drive anywhere. Everywhere around us was loud; screams and shouts, heavy crashes of metal, an ambulance siren that whirred past us headed in the direction we’d just came from, gunshots and explosions. It was all too disorientating, too chaotic. I couldn’t think.

We continued slowly along the street up until we came to a junction, continuing straight ahead. 

Until something crashed into us. 

I must’ve blacked out for a moment or two because when I woke up the truck was on its side, partially crushed, broken glass lay everywhere from windows and I could feel some shards in my hair when I lifted my head up. My head was pounding, blood oozing from the side of my forehead where I must have hit it upon impact, pretty damn hard it seemed.  
I heard Mina cry out next to me and instantly turned to face her, ignoring the protests from my aching body. She clutched her leg desperately, tears streaming down her face and I saw blood seeping through her pyjama bottoms.

I searched around for an exit, there had to be a way out. 

“Marco! Mina! Oh my god… Tommy, help me with this thing!” Joel shouted from somewhere outside. I then saw that the windscreen had been smashed, they must have gotten out that way. But there was no way we both could follow them, not with Mina’s leg like this. 

Among the screaming and other noises of general disorder, I heard grunting and struggling, followed by several loud thuds that sounded like footsteps on the side of the truck that was now above us. Looking up, I saw Joel pulling the door open and reaching his hand into the truck. Reaching in front of me, I grabbed Mina, taking care as to not injure her leg further and lifted her for Joel to hoist her up. After she was safe I climbed out after her. The pounding in my head, however, offset my balance and I ended up falling straight off the truck onto the concrete. Luckily, Tommy was there to catch my shoulders before I had chance to hit my head again, held me up and quickly tousled my hair to rid of any remaining glass shards. He gave me a small smile despite what was happening around us.

We then turned our attention to Joel, who was currently knelt on the ground pressing gently on Mina’s leg as she winced and held back any more tears from falling, her soft eyes now bloodshot and puffy. 

He looked at me and squinted his eyes slightly, almost hesitantly, before asking, “I think her leg is broken. Marco, do you think you’re able to carry her?” 

I nodded my head quickly in affirmation. I understand why he may have been hesitant; Mina was only a few years younger than me, and with my head wound in play, it wouldn’t an easy task. But we couldn’t risk being a gun down, not right now, not with those things running around. 

I moved to crouch in front of Mina and hoisted her up with one arm under her knees and the other around her shoulders while she laced her arms around my neck securely. I then nodded to Joel and Tommy and we ran in the same direction as everyone around us seemed to be headed. 

Running barefoot, exhausted and freezing wasn’t the most pleasant experience I’ll admit, but there was no way in hell we could stop to rest right now. The wails and animalistic shouts of those things echoed out around us, mirroring the screams and shouts of those who weren’t sick. I could see out the corner of my eyes them covered in blood, ravaging people who tried to take refuge in cars, buildings, anywhere they thought safe. I shook my head and kept my eyes on Joel and Tommy as they lead us along the streets and through alleyways until we came to a local pizza restaurant where just hours ago I had spent my birthday evening. Go figures. 

As we neared the entrance a group of around six people who looked to be sick rounded the side of the building and sprinted towards us. Tommy fired his gun towards them and Joel pushed me inside while I held Mina tighter, closer to me in a protecting fashion. Tommy was quick to follow us but stopped at the door holding it shut with brute force. 

“You go! I can hold ‘um off!”

Joel’s eyes widened as he replied, “I’m not just going to leave you behi-”

“Joel, you’ve got the kids! Go!” Tommy said defensively, gesturing towards Mina and I. Clearly there was no argument to be had. 

Joel nodded and emptied his pockets of any remaining ammo, handing it to Tommy before ushering me towards the back entrance of the building. I can’t help but glace longingly at the long stretch of tables pushed together on my right and the multitude of balloons that littered the restaurant. 

We exited the pizzeria and headed straight for the dirt road that lay behind the restaurant. I slowed to a small jog to catch my breath as we had been running for god-knows how long but my break was cut short by the sound of familiar wails close by. Two of them had come from the side of the building and were running straight for us. With no ammo and no weapons, we had no choice but to run.

The dirt and mud caked under my feet and squelched between my toes as I moved as fast as they could carry me. My messed-up balance and the wet ground caused me to slip a few times, but Joel’s hand under my arm prevented me from falling. 

I could hear them getting closer, closer, wails and cries growing louder still. 

The sudden blinding light of a flashlight stopped us in our tracks and the sound of rapid-fire bullets knocked our pursuers to the ground.

I looked up to see a soldier clad in solid black gear with a matching helmet that covered his whole face. We moved to step forward to go with him only to have him quickly raise his gun and point it towards us, halting our movements. Joel slowly moved to place an arm in front of me and Mina. “We’re not sick.” 

His voiced wavered slightly. 

The soldier then spoke into his mouth piece. _“I’ve got three civilians in the outer perimeter. Currently waiting on an objective.”_

____

____

_“No, they claim not to be.”_

____

____

_“I can’t just-”_

____

____

_“But, Sir, there’s two kids-!”_

____

____

_“Yes, Sir.”_

____

____

My stomach dropped as he raised the barrel of his rifle towards. 

I spun around quickly, putting my back towards the gunfire in attempt the protect Mina. Joel was quicker to move, however, and stepped in front, toppling us all to the ground in the process. 

The soldier moved to stand over me, gun aimed at my head. 

A sudden gunshot rang out and the soldier’s body dropped to the ground on my left, splashing me with mud and dirt. I sat up and saw Tommy running up to us but he slowed to a stop, his face pale and eyes wide. 

Joel lay sputtering and wheezing on the ground, blood oozing from his abdomen, eyes hazy and glassy. 

“Dad!” Mina screamed next to me and crawled over from where she lay, despite her broken leg. She dragged herself to her father’s side and sat with her hands clenched in his shirt, desperately grabbing for purchase. “No no no no, Daddy, please!” 

I wanted to move over there with her. I wanted to comfort her, to hold her close while she sobbed, to cry my own tears that wanted to break free. But I couldn’t. I just stood there, feet rooted to the spot beside Tommy hands clenched into fists at my sides. Hell, he was as much a dad to me as he was to her, so why couldn’t I fucking move?! I felt myself shaking as I listened to Mina sob and cry out in front of me, her loud screeches rattling her small form painfully. 

Joel raised an unsteady hand to the back of his daughter’s head as he gasped and panted breathlessly. He pressed his face close to Mina’s and said something to her I couldn’t hear. I heard him say my name multiple times, but I wasn’t listening, my mind was blank. I had no idea what to think, what to do, or what to say.

I felt Tommy put a hand on my shoulder, and squeeze tight, grounding me. 

“Dad, don’t do this to me! You can’t… You can’t leave us. Please!” She managed to roar out in-between her sniffling and panicked cries. 

Joel’s arm went limp on her shoulder and his mouth hung open lightly as his eyes glossed over and became unfocused. Mina only cried harder.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And so it begins ..  
> Sorry this chapter is so short but it is only the prologue so I didn't want it to be as long as a main chapter, and no Marco will not be 14 during the main story lol  
> This is my first work so do let me know how I did in the comments or at my tumblr @ruder-ouge, (especially with the overall pacing of the story so far)
> 
> Thanks for reading and I hope to see you in the next chapter :)


	2. Theft in Boston

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Someone suggested listening to the soundtrack while reading, so I highly recommend doing so for this and future chapters if that's your thing! I've left some links below of some I personally enjoy and think set the tone pretty well without being too overbearing or distracting. 
> 
> https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=_r1iaQvdwQk
> 
> https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=DvNF51-TSAQ&index=5&list=RD_r1iaQvdwQk

13 Years later. 

 

I've never been good at sleeping at night. No matter how exhausted I may have felt, I could never escape the sense of restlessness always on my mind, the urgent need to carry on, not to stop and sit down even when I knew I was safe. An unlucky trait really. 

It could have been that I was currently shacked up in one of the small, dilapidated apartment buildings in Zone 4. For context, a few years after the original outbreak each major city was sealed off and declared a 'Quarantine Zone', patrolled by armed guards and given access to food and water via ration-cards. My current QZ was the grand city of Boston. It was split into different Zones numbered 1-5. Where you got placed depended on the amount of ration-cards you had and received; those who got more than they could often count got placed in the higher level Zones like 1 and 2, whereas the families who only received one to last them the week were placed in the lower ones. And you thought social class wouldn't mean shit in the apocalypse. 

With me being in Zone 4 I admittedly wasn't in the best of spots, but I had an apartment to myself, a roof over my head and a mattress to sleep on. Even if that mattress was over ten years old and had springs popping out in places. 

So, you can imagine the insomniac within me was less than ecstatic when the daily 8am alarm blared from outside my window. 8am. I counted on my fingers and let out a heavy sigh. Guess I'll be running off four hours of sleep again. 

Sitting up, I felt my back crack in three different places as I stretched my arms above my head and came to realize that I hadn't gotten changed from the night before as I looked down at the dated denim jeans on my legs. 

I padded over to the bathroom to quickly freshen myself up with whatever was left in the metal canister of water I kept beside the sink. 

 

 

Around half an hour later I was surprised to hear a loud knocking at my door. If she was here this early, it couldn't mean anything good. 

Unlocking the door, I opened it slightly only for it to be barged open from under my hand in order for a mop of messy pigtails to strut through and perch itself on my kitchen counter, a visible wound on her cheek. Nothing too big, a small graze if that. But from the way she winced when she gave me a smile I could tell that it stung.

Sighing dramatically and shaking my head, I strolled to the bathroom to fetch a damp cloth. 

"I've got some interesting news for you," Mina called to me from the kitchen, but I ignored her in protest. 

Walking back, cloth in hand, I placed a hand under her chin and yanked her head to the side, exposing her cheek as I harshly pressed the wet rag to it. After a sharp inhale I felt one of her feet kick my leg from where they were hanging off the counter and I glared at her in response. 

"Where have you been, Mina?" I asked like I didn't already know the answer. 

She gave me a smug look. "The East side of Zone 3. We had a drop to make, remember."

I slammed my hand with the cloth down on the counter in annoyance. "We. We had a drop to make. The two of us." 

She took the rag from my hand and pressed it to her cheek. "You got in late last night, I didn't want to wake you. Besides, I thought I could handle it on my own."

I pinched the bridge of my nose, leaning my back on the wall opposite the counter. "So, how did it go?"

Smiling, she replied, "Deal went off fine. I took more goods than he actually wanted so we've got some spare, but other than that we've got enough ration-cards to last a couple of months. Easy business." To prove her point, she waved the cards in front of me with a challenging look, daring for me to say something.

"So how did this happen, then?" I motioned to my cheek, not taking the bait.

"These two guys jumped me on the way here, alright? It was nothing. Yeah, they got a few good hits in, but let's say they won't be bothering us again."

Running a hand down my face I questioned, "Did you at least find out who they were?"

At that a wide cat-like grin stretched across her face as she jumped off the counter and sauntered towards me, finger pointed. "That I did, Marky. Turns out that Nile was the one that sent them." I cringe at the nickname as she crossed her arms over her chest and awaited my reply. 

See, Mina and I were in a... more underground business. Quite literally; we were smugglers. It was our job to get the not-so-legal contraband into the Zones for those who wanted and often requested it. Guns, ammo, pills, materials, whatever the client asked for we got. For the right price of course. In return we usually wanted ration-cards, though that changed if they had something we wanted in return. We were good enough to be the best known in the city and still go under the patrol's radar. It helped that we often did deals with the guards, so any of our activity goes unreported if noticed. 

A few weeks back, we had come into supply of a large number of different kinds of guns and ammo for us to do what we wished with. And that is where Nile comes into play.  
Upon collecting said weapons, we were jumped by his gang and the fuckers took everything, leaving behind a pissed Mina and I to patch up our wounds. 

Since then the bastard went into hiding and the pair of us have been searching for any clues as to where he might be. And the thought that Mina may have a lead to where he's been holed up puts a giddy smile on my face and a spring in my step. 

"Our Nile? Nile Dok? Are you sure?"

"Well can you think of any other Nile that would send his heavies after us, Marco? Yes, of course it's him." I glare at her for her sarcasm, but my facade soon breaks as a smile creeps its way onto my features. 

"So, he knows we're after him and he thinks he can get us first? Smart." 

Mina moves around the room and kicks my boots towards me, their soles clunking heavily across the wooden floor. "But not smart enough," she said in a sing-song voice. "Word is that he's holed up in an old warehouse in Zone 5 - can't say for how long though."

Pulling on my boots and shrugging on my faded black jacket, I got up and walked backwards towards the door with my arms outstretched. "Well, I'm ready now."

Mina smiles her gapped-tooth smile and thows the wet cloth on the counter top before following me out of the apartment building. 

 

 

We head towards the checkpoint area that would take us through to Zone 5.

I saw a supply truck pass through the vehicle entrance as it opened up ahead. Other than that, there was no one else waiting to pass through. Not that that's strange, Zone 5 isn't exactly a prime tourist attraction. With the highest amount of crime in the Boston QZ and the fact that it lets in more people then they're able to house so poverty is in surplus, it wouldn't be surprising if the guards questioned why we were headed there in the first place. 

We show our identification passes to the armed soldier standing at the front of the smaller sized metal gate. As it opens and we are about to step through, we're knocked off our feet as the supply truck on the other side explodes, debris and chunks of metal flying in every direction as bullets start to pierce the air around us. The loud screech of a siren starts up from somewhere above us and the once open metal gate is quickly dragged shut by the guards. Among the bullets and noise I can make out a soldier shout, "Fireflies!", before a heavier barrage of gunfire starts up. 

"Marco, come on!" Mina shouts as she takes my arm and leads me to an old building behind us that was once a school or library. 

After shutting the door I lean over panting with my hands on my knees. 

"Erwin's been busy," I chuckle out shooting a glance at Mina from where she leans against the wall on my right. 

She pulls the collar of her shirt back and forth in a fanning gesture. "If that's your idea of busy, Marco, then I'm starting to get worried."

Breathing out a small laugh, I start down the corridor with her following close behind. We made our way to the back of the building and up a flight of stairs to where I found the room of the man, to this day, I only know as Old John.

John's a very close friend of ours, and a sort-of business partner you might say. In his apartment covered by an aged and splintered wooden bookcase is a sizable hole about 3ft wide, leading to an underground tunnel that opens up on the outside. An easily accessible exit system is something few smugglers in the city have the luxury of using, and is one of the huge factors in mine and Mina's success in the trade. Old John collects a portion of what we collect for letting us use his tunnel; there's got to be a better way of phrasing that.

"Where y'all headed on this fine venture?" He asks from his armchair, stroking his beard absentmindedly as I begin to drag the large bookcase away from the gap in wall. 

"We're heading for Zone 5. Gates now blocked off, thanks to some stunt the Fireflies pulled with a cargo truck."

"Oh so that's what that was. Say, you two wouldn't be goin' after Nile would you?" I turned to Old John and gave him a questioning look, urging him to continue. "Well, I just heard a few rumors, is all. Heard that Erwin was lookin' for him, can't say why though. I'd keep a lookout anyway, them Fireflies is dangerous."

Shit. 

"I guess we'll just have to find Nile before they do. See you, John." I nodded towards him before extending my hand out for Mina to enter the tunnel. 

"Y'all stay safe out there."

There's a small drop into the tunnel but nothing too deep. It opens up into the basement of the building that was cut off when the Boston QZ started. It's cold and damp, the smell of dirt and dust pungent in the air as we walked to a lamp-lit corner table at the edge of the room where we kept our supplies.

Grabbing the p226 pistol that lay beside my backpack, still there from last time, I quickly counted the ammo left in the magazine. Only five bullets left. Better make the shots count.

 

 

After travelling underground in and out of the tunnel for an unhealthy amount of time we reached the end, a small beam of light shone through a crack in the ceiling that wasn't being covered by the wooden door that lay over the large exit hole. Grabbing the ladder that leaned against the wall next to me, I used the top to push the door out of the way before we made our way up and out. 

The hole opened up into the living room of an abandoned house with one of walls blasted through creating a window to the outside. Long chains of ivy climbed and clung up the side of the house and were running in through the opening in the wall, gathering in a sizable bush at the bottom. The creme couches and pool-table in the centre of the room were littered with debris and broken bricks, as well as the floor around the room. Faded green, stripe wallpaper peeled and cracked off the walls, curling around itself into coils. That one will not be missed.

I followed Mina upstairs when she spoke up, "You think Nile still has our guns? He could have moved them on by now."

Not likely. Nile Dok was a smart man in some respects, I had to admit that. But in others, the man was a fucking idiot. The smart move would have been to move the goods straight away, most of them at least, but knowing his selfish nature he undoubtedly kept them for his gang. I can almost hear his smug, dry cackle and him saying, _'Higher intimidation means higher profits!' _.__

__"For his sake, he better," I settled on._ _

__Mina looked over her shoulder at me, still walking, and commented, "While we're on the subject, when is the next drop due?"_ _

__"Well, Connie and Sasha have arranged to meet up with us next month. Hopefully, lots of ammo, materials and probably some other crap that they throw in there for the hell of it." The pair of them lived outside of Boston in Lincoln, which meant that they're exposed to find all sorts junk. Sometimes it was useful and we could shift it, but most of the time, from them, it's junk. Like, how do they expect us to trade an unusable, rusted tandem bike - yes, they found a two-seater bike somewhere, don't ask me where or how - while not taking it apart for scrap metal? And, yes again, they specifically requested it be kept in one piece. How those two have survived out there on their own for this long with their go-lucky attitudes I may never know._ _

__We continued upwards until we came to the spot where the house connected to an office building next-door. I'm about to round the corner inside when I saw an orange shroud as thick as smoke cloud the air up ahead._ _

__Pulling my backpack quickly off to grab my gas-mask from inside, I whisper harshly to Mina, "Spores!"_ _

__After pulling on our masks we move forward cautiously, guns drawn._ _

__"Where the hell are these coming from? The place was clear last time."_ _

__"They've got to be coming out of something, so stay alert," I reply, taking the lead in front of her._ _

__I turn on the flashlight attached to the shoulder strap of bag, illuminating the room through the thick germ cloud ahead._ _

__The corner opens up into a wide room cluttered with office desks, chairs, filing cabinets and aged sheets of paper strewn everywhere in disarray. The orange dust seems to be gathering in the corner beside the open door on the wall opposite us. Raising my handgun, I stepped lightly forward, but stopped in my tracks when I saw what lay in the corner. A corpse lay rotting against the wall, different kinds of fungi growing out of it; bright yellow, pulsating spots and many long, pink shards grew outwards from its flesh. Various kinds of bugs crawled and burrowed themselves into the body, maggots writhing in the tears of skin. It's intestines hung out of its stomach, split and ripped in a pool of now dry blood staining their lap. A few metres away another corpse was in the same state; this one looked to be female._ _

__The air is heavy around them and the sound of flies buzzing is almost deafening. I feel a few land on my arms and I cringe as I swat them away._ _

__"Found our culprits."_ _

__Mina takes one look at the bodies and rears back instantly. "Jeez!" After taking a moment to compose herself she turned back the corpses. "It doesn't look like they've been here long. A few days or so. Best keep our eyes out for any Infected, just in case."_ _

__I tilt my head towards the exit, indicating our leave and she hurries out the door while I trail behind her._ _

__We continue into the next room and down the fire escape on the side of the building that opened out into a what looked to be a car park below. Shells of wrecked cars were enveloped by long grass and plants, tearing its way through the concrete leaving very little of the original car park visible. Shoots of ivy clung to street-lights desperately and gave the illusion of them being pulled down to earth, tilted and sinking. The concrete cracked and gave way in the centre of the area causing a large hole to form filled with murky, green water with some algae floating on the surface._ _

__We both removed our gas-masks and placed them back in our bags, turning off our flashlights in the process._ _

__I see Mina up ahead deeply inhale and stretch her arms wide above her head. I smile warmly. She reminds me of a bird, spreading her wings ready to fly. She doesn't deserve to be cooped inside of the cage she lives in; here she's free, basking in the sunlight that pours down onto her face and illuminating her freckled skin. If only that were possible._ _

__"Ah, fresh air! That's one thing I love about the outside. I hate the smell of the city."_ _

__"Why don't you ask Connie if he's got any of those air fresheners?"_ _

__Turning her head to me, she grins, "Well, Marky, if they weren't all expired that be a great idea."_ _

__

__

__After traveling for a short while down a few alleyways, we wound up at the entrance to Zone 5 through a small building - enter one side, come out the other._ _

__Mina knocks on the door in synchronized succession before it opens slightly and a small boy around 10 years old peeks his face through the gap.She waves a ration-card in front of his face. "Hey, little man. Make sure the coast is clear for us?" The boy nods and Mina hands over the card. "No soldiers, none of Nile's men, okay?"_ _

__The door shut and we waited._ _

__Looking around the room I spotted some bullets lying on a table next to the door. Lucky me._ _

__"You know he's already expecting us. No point trying so hard to avoid him," I tell Mina and look over to where she is standing._ _

__Rolling her eyes she retorts, "Well, sorry for wanting things to be a bit easier for us." She folded her arms and faced the door while I chuckled to myself._ _

__There's three knocks on the other side of the door and we take it as our sign to leave._ _

__The door opens up onto the infamous marketplace of Zone 5. The place is like a maze; a winding labyrinth of huts,tents and shelters piled and stacked together, all sporting their goods hoping for a sale. Leaning next to the towering wall separating the Quarantine Zone from the outside sits a small food shack. Whatever they're cooking smells disgusting. Upon closer inspection I can see several sizable dead rats hanging from a horizontal pipe above the makeshift serving counter._ _

__Holding the contents of my stomach down at the smell, I'm about the follow Mina when I'm drawn to three dogs jumping and barking from behind a chain-link fence with a sign saying _'15 cards a piece' _hanging on it. I walk up to them and stick my fingers through the holes in the fence. A dirty white pup licks the lips of my fingers while a larger, shaggy, brown one sniffs and my feet.___ _

____"Sorry, man. These dogs are all accounted for. Try me next week," the young man leaning on the side of the fence tells me and I give a polite smile in return. He looks quite put-together for the area he lives in and it seemed like he took good care of his animals, something quite rare for a trader in the city._ _ _ _

____I stand and hurry to catch up with Mina after she finishes talking briefly with someone I don't recognize._ _ _ _

____"He said Nile came through here about half an hour ago. Apparently he was heading down to the docks. We can hope he's still there now."_ _ _ _

____Giving her a wide grin, we made our way to the docks._ _ _ _

____On our way there I noticed that the walls were littered with Firefly propaganda; a yellow-orange, symmetrical, T-shaped winged insect in paint, and even carved into some walls, with the messages, _'Look for the light' _and _'Rise with us' _scrawled underneath._____ _ _ _

________To cut it short, the Fireflies are group of radical revolutionists who seek to revolt against the military oppression in the Quarantine Zones and restore some kind of government. They were also they only ones still searching for a vaccine for the infection. There hadn't been much sight of any activity by them lately, and most presumed they were lying low or dying out. Up until a few hours ago that is._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________I had personally never much cared for them. Sure, their cause was a right one and, in large numbers, they were effective. And, although I shared their views about the running of the QZs, I've never been much of a zealot. I was content with the life I lived, as harsh a reality as that was. If I found a way to singlehandedly change the world, hell, I'd go for it, but sadly real life didn't work that way._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________Mina and I pulled out our handguns as we neared the docks. Turning a corner, we were confronted with three men who look to be guarding the entrance to the docks. Some of Nile's guys._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________I hid the p22g behind my back as we approached them and I let out a breath annoyance, "Great, here we go."_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________The middle man and shortest of the three speaks up, "You pair better turn around if you know what's good for you."_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________I keep silent and let Mina do the talking. "Our business is with Nile, not with you. You don't need to do this."_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________He scrunches his face up and points his gun at us sideways as if it were his finger. Is this guy serious?_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________"Turn the fuck around and leave now!"_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________"We're not leaving without Nile." She clutches her pistol tighter._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________The man on the far right wielding a bloodied wooden baseball bat strides forward menacingly and lifts the end up to Mina's face._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________"Bitch, I will bash both of your skulls, unless you turn and get your dumb asses out of here!"_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________Now, I'm already pissed at this point, so there is no way I'm just going to stand there and let this guy hold his fancy stick in front of my sisters face._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________I huff out a, "Fuck this," before raising my gun and shooting him in between the eyes._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________Dragging Mina behind a wooden crate on my right, I heard one of the men shout "Take cover!" before bullets fire in our direction._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________Mina's snaps her head around and gives me look that could kill._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________"What the fuck is wrong with you, Marco?! Now the whole camp is going to know we're here!" She drops her head before angrily asking, "You take the right, I'll take the left, got it?"  
I nod and clock my pistol before leaning around the crate and lining up my shot for when my target looks over his cover again. _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________Two shots later the pair are dead and I find myself in possession of some extra ammo and a new bat. I'm practically giddy._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________Mina stomps over to me and punches me in the arm and I wince at the impact. She is a lot stronger than she looks. "Nicely done. Even if you are a show off and an asshole," she grunted._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________Shrugging my shoulders with my hand still holding my sore arm I replied, "Oh come on, how else was that going to end? You guys would have gone on forever, and we're on a bit of a tight schedule, so I just sped things along."_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________Mina narrows her eyes and stomps her feet as she walks towards the docks, leaving me behind to follow her._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________Taking shelter behind a shipping container, I peered round to get some bearings on the area. Four roaming around and two inside the cargo shelter. With my newfound bat, this shouldn't be too difficult._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________I give Mina a look of certainty and we marched out from behind the container, our movements synchronized._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________ _ _ _ _ _ _

________ _ _ _ _ _ _

________Three kills and three knockouts later, Mina and I are headed for the petite, navy building a distance in front of us. With no window or doorway facing us, there was little chance we would spotted approaching._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________We swiftly neared the building and were about to try the front door when the handle of a door on the side wall that lead out into an alleyway beside started to unlock, handle jiggling and rattling noisily in a panicked state. Seeing that end of the alley flush with the building was barred off with a tall, chain-link fence, I bolted around the small building, Mina hot on my heels, and waited in the opening of the alleyway for the star attraction to rear his head._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________The door flew open and a flustered looking Nile Dok barged out, greasy, black hair, as shaggy as ever, combed forward in attempt to somewhat mask his huge forehead. Needless to say, the technique wasn't doing it's job._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________"Mornin', Nile," Mina smile sweetly at my side, arms crossed and head tilted._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________Nile's head shot up and his eyes widened nervously. He held his hands in front of him defensively, nodding to both of us. "Mina. Marco. Lovely day, huh? Listen, I hope there's no hard feelings?"_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________I absentmindedly lifted my bat up from where I had previously been draping it onto the floor and held it in my other hand, tightening my hold. "Oh no, no, Nile. None at all. We're just dandy."_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________Nile breaks out into a sudden sprint, desperate to run, and I swing the bat with two hands into his knees, the impact causing an awful wet, crunching noise and he crashes to the ground, whining out in pain. I drop the bat and it hits the floor with a clanging sound; clearly I won't be needing it any more._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________"Ah shit! Look, what you may have heard it- it ain't true, alright?! I just wanted to tell yo-"_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________"The guns. You want to tell us where the guns are?" Mina cut in viciously._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________Nile pressed his head down onto the damp concrete floor and briefly closed his eyes before answering. "I- Sure, yeah. But it's- it's complicated."_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________Mina and I look give each other matching looks and I walked over to where Nile is lying and press my foot on the back of his knee. A shudder breaks through me as I feel the surface below my sole squish and move, the bones kneaded by my foot. Nile lets out a sharp scream of pain and I ease the pressure slightly._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________"Alright! I... I sold them."_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________My head shot up to Mina, flabbergasted, before looking down at Nile again. "Excuse me?!"_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________He's ringing his hands into fists and then releasing them and stretching his fingers, repeating the process over and over again until he had perked up the courage to speak. "I owed somebody and-"_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________"You owed us!" Mina snaps and I find myself slightly shocked by her tone. In these situations she usually plays the more passive role, choosing to get her point across by politeness rather than force._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________"I can get them back! I just need a little more time, maybe- maybe a week," Nile pleads._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________She stepped forward and crouched in front of him, gun still in hand but not pointed. "You know what, I might have gave you that if you hadn't have tried to fucking kill me," she mocked, her wide-toothed smile no longer on her face._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________Standing up once again she asked, "Who has our guns, Nile?"_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________She's met with no answer and I press my boot down harder._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________"Who has our guns?" she repeats, ignoring the cries of pain from Nile._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________He looks up to the sky desperately before shaking his head and muttering, "The Fireflies, alright? I owed to Fireflies."_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________I felt my mouth gape as I took my foot off his knee and went to stand beside Mina. "What?"_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________Nile attempts to lift himself off the ground to meet our eyes, wincing and struggling with every movement, pressing heavily on his forearms. "There's hardly any of them left, anyway! We- We should just go find um' and finish them off! What do you say?"_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________I raise an eyebrow and look sideways at Mina who mirrors my expression and I have to hold down a grin in response to how ridiculous we must look._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________Pulling out my p22g from the back of my waistband I inspect it, just for appearance sake. I've always been a sucker for showmanship. "That is a stupid idea." I fire the gun and leave Nile Dok dead on the floor, blood pooling around his head._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________After a pause, Mina turns to face me and asks, "So, now what?"_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________Putting my pistol away once again, I reply with a shrug, "Honestly, I don't know. We go and tell the Fireflies it was a mistake and maybe make a deal, say a few things here and there and get our merchandise back."_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________She huffs out a laugh before retorting, "You really think that's going to work?"_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________"It's the best I've got right now. If you have any bright ideas, please, share with class." I say sarcastically, stretching my arms out and gesturing to the space around me. Mina grins and shakes her head at me._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________"Alright. Let's go find a Firefly."_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________I pick the baseball bat up off the floor and attach it to a loop on my backpack before turning and leading the way out of the alley._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________A tall and muscular, broad man walks out in front out us from the corner at the opening entrance to the alleyway, blonde hair slicked back and styled in such a suspicously neat way that I find myself doing a double-take and peircing blues staring at us intimidatingly. His right arm is tucked away in a makeshift sling that hangs around his neck.  
His voice is low and booming, with a certain authoritative guise to it that makes me feel like I want to shrink away like a misbehaving child. "You won't have to look very far, then."_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________"Erwin Smith?" Mina gasped out._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________Folding my arms, I smiled. "Well, there you go - King Firefly."_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________Erwin gives me a confused look before ignoring my comment and asking, "May I ask what you're doing here?" If he has indeed been stood there the whole time, I would say it is pretty obvious what we were just doing here, and am about to tell him just that, before I realize who we're actually talking to and hold my tongue._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________"Business," Mina replied curtly._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________"What kind of business involves beating some guy to shit then blowing his brains out - and not in the fun way." That was a new voice. I look to who the voice belongs to and find a short, raven-haired man saunter up and stand beside Erwin, arms folded across his chest. His face looks bored to say the least, but there's fire behind his steel eyes._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________"Levi." Erwin said in a warning tone. "Although, yes, as badly as he put it, Levi here brings up a valid point; I needed him alive."_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________I took a cautious step back. "So that's why you're here. If you needed him alive so badly, why didn't you interfere while you clearly saw us 'beating him to shit'? Well, we're here to tell you that the guns he gave you, they weren't his to sell. We want them back."_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________Levi let out a dry, sarcastic laugh before spitting, "It doesn't work like that, shit for brains."_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________"Levi," Erwin scolded again before straightening up and continuing. "I don't doubt that, somehow, you owned those guns, given by your attitudes. But, no matter what you say, The Survey Corps payed for those weapons. If you want them back you're going to have to earn them."_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________Mina tilted her head to the side. "The Survey Corps?"_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________"The original title given to our organisation. Our name has often been mistaken over the years due to our emblem resembling an insect -"_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________"Maybe if you taught the guys you recruited to actually read instead of just drawing shitty pictures -"_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________"AS I was saying, yes, we have mistakenly adopted the name 'Fireflies', but we are not torn over the departure of our original title, just as long as our cause is still recognized and our message is delivered."_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________At this point I felt like slamming my head against a brick wall in confusion - nothing about this made sense. "So wait, that bug... thing, is not actually a bug?"_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________Levi grimaced at me, top lip curling. "No, dipshit, it's a bird."_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________"But, why is it yellow?"_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________Levi pinched the bridge of his nose before continuing. "Because - no, no. I'm not explaining this to you. Erwin, just tell them what we're here for, please, before I punch something."_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________Mina reached into her pockets and drew out a large number of ration-cards. "Alright then, if you want them earned, how many cards are we talking about?"_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________Erwin shook his head. "Thank you, but I have no need for ration-cards. What I need is your services - both of you. To be specific, I need something smuggled out of the city. You do that and you can have your guns back, and then some."_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________Something didn't feel right to be about this; what were the chances that the head of the Fireflies - Survey Corps - whatever they were - would be in Zone 5 of the Boston Quarantine Zone? Their organisation was spread throughout the whole of the United States, so what were they doing here? They hadn't made an appearance here for months, so why now?_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________Folding my arms, I walked towards Erwin, a challenging look on my face. "How do we know you've still got them? Way I've heard it, the military's been wiping you guys out left, right and centre."_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________Erwin lowered his head. "You're right, they have been and our numbers are not what they once were because of it. Fine. If you require further confirmation, come back to our base with us and we'll show you the guns."_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________Levi stepped away from Erwin in shock, "Erwin, can't be serious?! These guys -"_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________He was cut short by the sudden calls of soldiers close by._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________" _Found another dead body here! That makes over five in this area alone _."___ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________" _Search the area _!"___ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

____________Levi darted and grabbed Erwin's arm, pulling him along. "We have to leave. Now." He turned to the pair of us. "Are you two coming or not?"_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

____________Mina and I both quickly nodded and tailed after the Fireflies._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

____________ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

____________ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

____________We made our way around and out of the docks and traveled through backstreets and up staircases for some time until we reached the rooftops._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

____________My mind had been reeling since the docks and I had to speak up. "So, why now? If you've been needing help with this job for so long, why only ask now?"_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

____________Erwin slowed down from where he walked in front of me and I could see his wide shoulders rise and fall with the heavy sigh he let out. "Oh, believe me, we have tried. But lately we have been... struggling to put it lightly. The army needs a scapegoat and so, more often than not, their aggression is targeted towards us. When everyone is against you, it's hard to find people who will work with you. So, to put it bluntly, we could not find anyone to work with us and we can't risk sending our own member out in the field, at this point our numbers are just too few." He bowed his head solemnly for a moment or two and I felt a pang of sympathy in my chest. "One of our members suggested the pair of you, saying that you were able to shift nearly anything and were highly reliable. So, given how desperate we are, we arranged to find you as soon as possible."_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

____________"I don't know whether to feel privileged or insulted," I chirped, trying to lighten the mood._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

____________Erwin smirked. "Oh, believe me, son, if I had meant to insult you, you would know about it."_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

____________I squeak out an awkward laugh and end the conversation there, mostly because I have no idea where that came from or if he was being serious or not. I chose not to ponder it further._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

____________I continue to walk behind Erwin until we reach a specific building that stood high above the ground and seemed pretty important, given by how Levi and Erwin sped up their pace. They led us to the edge of the roof, as apprehensive as I am, where I can then see a large window frame with the glass removed from it. It resembles some kind of archway, and from the way Erwin and Levi step confidently through I assume this is our destination and follow in after them._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

____________I won't lie and say I wasn't expecting more from the infamous Fireflies. Survey Corps. Ah, Jesus Christ, not again!_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

____________Upon stepping through the window frame I was met with a sizable room with a high ceiling, but nothing more. Several wooden crates were stacked haphazardly on top on one-another, standing tall in the space of the room. High, metal storage shelves leaned against one of the walls and rolled up rugs and carpets once of many fantastic colours were now faded and piled in the corner collecting dust. An old ripped and weathered yellow couch dotted with small red flowers sat beside the entryway._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

____________This was the Fireflie's infamous nest? Hell, I knew they were struggling, but this was something else._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

____________Levi's harsh tone interrupted my thoughts and I turned guiltily around, he could probably tell what I was thinking by the expression on my face. "Hey, over here, shit stain."_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

____________Him and Erwin stood in front of a long, blue plastic sheet that had been draped to hang down the wall. Levi moved to lift up a corner of plastic, revealing rusted and stained metal double-door. Erwin rapped on the door with his one hand in a pattern that he seemed to know by heart. The guy probably came up with it in the first place, so one would think so._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

____________After a few beats of silence, I jumped slightly at the sound of a bar sliding off the other slide of door and it it being unlocked. Opening inwards, a short man with curly, shoulder length blond hair poked his head out and greeted Erwin and Levi. "You're back earlier than I'd thought you be."_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

____________He then glanced at Mina and I as we stood behind them and his big, blue eyes widened in excitement. "Oh, is this them?" Stepping out the door he took my hand in both of his and shook vigorously, looking up at me with a wide smile on his face and doing the same to Mina afterwards, "Armin Arlert, research division. It's nice to meet you."_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

____________It was usual for someone to be so chipper and well mannered upon first meeting, so this greeting personally came as a breath of fresh air to me and I then decided that I liked Armin Arlert._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

____________Levi cleared his throat and Armin darted back around, embarrassed by his sudden outbreak, and sputtered out, "Oh, yes! Come on through," walking through the open door for us to follow. Erwin and Levi stood unmoving, it seemed as if they were waiting for us to move first._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

____________A feeling of dread hit me. This was all going so fast that I hadn't had time to stop and think it through, talk it out with Mina. And it would downright insulting to up and leave at this point, so I stood at a dead end._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

____________The apprehension must have shown on my face because I felt a sudden gentle touch on my shoulder and looked down to see Mina at my side, smiling sympathetically up at me, eyebrows knitted. Everything about her actions spoke in amounts and told me we'd be fine._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

____________I lifted my hand to give hers a squeeze from where it rested on my shoulder and stepped through the metal door into the Fireflie's den._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

____________The entrance opened up into a large studio apartment with bare brick walls and tall, arched windows lining the wall opposite us. The plasterboard once on the ceiling had been removed, revealing the long, wooden beams underneath and leaving a few discarded wires to hang down carelessly. Multiple desks and workshops were scattered around the area with one large U-shaped assortment of tables in the centre of the huge room. Thick, metal support beams were littered around from the original structure of the building, with some seeming to have notices and announcements stuck on them._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

____________The place was bustling to say the least, the air busy as the many people hustled and moved around going about their different jobs. A makeshift shooting range was tucked away in the lower-right corner where a small group of Fireflies were throwing knives, shooting bows and flinging other kinds of melee weapons at the targets, joking and laughing among themselves._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

____________I have to admit, I was impressed by the organisation of the place. Everything seemed to move and function like a well-oiled machine. Although, with a man like Erwin Smith running the place, I expected nothing less._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

____________I tilted my head towards Mina to comment on such when a woman wearing glasses and her chestnut hair tied up in a ponytail bouncing at the top of her head came barreling towards us and looped her arms around Erwin and Levi. At Erwin's wincing, however, she let go instantly apologizing, "Oops, sorry! Forgot about the arm." She spoke with a thick Greek accent and her bubbly personality seemed to shine through her actions._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

____________She turned and inspected Mina and I, hands on her hips, looking us up and down. "So, this is them? Hanji Zoe," she extended her hand to us both in turn and then looked back to Erwin. "And you have fully scored them in on the job? They know what they will be handling?"_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

____________Levi's dry voice spoke up, "Not exactly, they just know we need something smuggling out the city. We were about go into the details before you came running up and tackled Erwin and I."_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

____________"'Something'? Keeping them in the dark with that one, don't you think?" She did have a point; we had no idea what we were getting ourselves into, no idea of how big this job would be or any clue of where we would be smuggling this thing to._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

____________"I think we should talk about this somewhere more private, if you'll follow me." Erwin interrupted and led the way across the large room to a metal staircase heading downwards. We descended into what looked like a recreational area with tables and chairs, musty, old couches and several of well-packed shelves of food as well as a cooking area._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

____________A few Fireflies were already sitting around down there, but quickly got the message at Erwin's look towards them and hurried off upstairs._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

____________Erwin muttered something inaudible to Hanji who quickly rushed up the stairs also._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

____________Holding his free hand out and gesturing to the chairs and couches, Erwin instructed, "Please, take a seat."_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

____________We did so, with Levi and him moving to sit opposite._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

____________After a few slightly awkward moments I heard the sound of quick footsteps on the creaking wooden floor above us before moving down the stairs to meet us._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

____________Hanji was back now, this time with someone new. He stood tall, looking to be about half a foot shorter or so than myself, eyebrows knitted slightly, framing the sharp, hazel eyes that resided underneath them. His dirty-blonde hair was styled into an undercut with the sides and back shaved, and seemed to have been cut recently, adding higher definition to the sharp angles of his face and jaw. By my guess, he looked to be a few years younger than myself. His expression was slightly confused and a little disgruntled, a small frown gracing his features._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

____________Sticking his hands in the pockets of his heavily worn denim jacket and fiddling with something in there nervously, he seemed to be studying Mina and I in return, eyes lingering in places and settling for moments in others. He then looked up and sent a questioning, yet annoyed, look in Erwin and Levi's direction. Come to think of it, his face had looked annoyed the whole time he had been down here, so either being in our presence personally wronged him somehow or his face naturally fell like that._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

____________Erwin cleared his throat and leaned back, holding an open hand out to the new individual standing by Hanji._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

____________"Marco, Mina, this is Jean Kirschtein. Should you choose to accept the offer, he's what the two of you will be smuggling out of Boston."_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Annnd we have our first sign of Jean! Even if bby boy didn't say anything but shhhhh!
> 
> Do let me know if you enjoyed or any criticisms you might have in the comments or at ruder-ouge.tumblr.com  
> Again, thank you so much for reading, I am ever grateful <3


	3. Infections

Have you ever had a moment where your mind is reeling with a thousand thoughts a second but your mouth just won't work, like it can't keep up? And you just zone out for what feels like an infinite amount of time, until you can finally come to terms with what is happening? Well, that was currently me. 

Erwin had finished speaking and we sat in awkward silence. 

I felt my eyebrows knit and my face shift into a mix of confusion and anger as I turned my gaze from who we now knew as Jean Kirschtein back to Erwin and Levi in front of us, mouth slightly agape. 

We didn't do people; that was one of the very few things we refused, though mostly because the rewards offered were never worth the risk, always too low and pointless. In this circumstance, however, something we needed and were owed was on the table, plus anything else the Firefies decided to throw in if they were grateful, which I sure as hell hoped so. 

Mina and I exchanged a look, her expression displaying how her mind was also working to process this new information. I then placed my elbows on my knees and leaned forward to further question Erwin when a brash, gruff voice to our right interrupted me, snapping out a response. 

"Wait, what?! I thought you said it would be Eren and Mikasa taking me out of Boston, who the fuck are these guys? We don't know them, I don't know them; how do you know they'll be true to their word?" 

Jean stood with his hands balled into fists at his sides, body turned towards where Levi and Erwin sat and stretched an open palm out in our direction once he had finished speaking. Given his reaction, his was clearly just as surprised by the turnout as we were. 

Levi pinched the bridge of his nose and answered, "Just calm down, Kirschtein, okay? Look, I know we agreed on that, but there's been a change of plans with how the army has been perusing us lately. They know most of our faces, including Eren and Mikasa, and all three of you could be killed because of it. We can't risk losing them, and, most importantly, you. So it's got to be these guys. It's only for a few hours, so shut up whining and accept it."

Although Jean still looked tremendously pissed off, he seemed to have backed down slightly in understanding and Erwin gauged his reaction before taking over for Levi.

"We had a recommendation for them from a close friend of theirs; Tommy Miller, if I remember correctly. He said they were highly reliable and trustworthy and that we could count on the two of them if we ever had the need for their... services."

I felt my mouth moving and butting in, even before my head had even registered it. "Was that before or after he left your little maltia group?"

The two Fireflies narrowed their eyes at me and Levi sneered his upper lip slightly, but neither chose to comment on my remark and I had to suppress a smirk at their response.

Mina, sensing the atmosphere I had created, spoke up, "Where abouts outside the Quarantine Zone do you want us to take him?"

Erwin looked thankful and faced her, "The Capital Building on the North-East side of the city. I'm sure the two of you are familiar with it." 

I scoff, "That's not exactly close." 

"You're capable." His voice was stern and unwavering and his gaze didn't shift from where his bold eyes bore into mine, as if to intimidate. And I won't lie, it had worked to a higher extent than I'm willing to admit. 

"We already have a small team waiting for you there. Just hand him off, come back and the guns are yours, plus some of our own weapons and supplies."  
I rubbed at my face with my hands before turning to Mina with a questioning look.

She lets out a sigh and shrugged her shoulders, "He's just cargo, Marco." She pauses for a moment and then raises a disapproving eyebrow in the Fireflies' direction. "Although, we won't be moving anything until we actually see the guns."

Erwin nods in agreement while Levi merely rolled his eyes. 

I then turned to address Jean. He looked down his nose at us from where he stood, his arms crossed and he puffed his chest. He reminds me of a peacock, fanning his feathers in attempt to make himself seem bigger and scarier than he actually is. Someone's got a quite the ego. 

Looking to stomp it down a bit, I stood and faced him. I towered over him slightly, with the top of his head only reaching my nose, causing him to tilt his head upwards slightly to meet my gaze. I can't help but feel a little smug. I noticed him shrink back for a fraction of a second in surprise, only to quickly recover and puff his chest out once again, hands now stuffed back in his pockets. 

"You'll leave with us tonight, once it's dark enough not to be seen by any patrols. Curfew will be in effect and, because of our little incident at the docks earlier, the guards will probably be on high alert, not to mention the chance that we might run into some Infected; so I'd suggest bringing some kind of weapon. Not that you'll have to use it, Mina and I will try to handle anything if it comes up, it's just a precaution." 

He gives me a curt nod, his sharp expression unchanged and I turn to face Erwin and Levi. 

"Me and Mina will need to head back to Zone 4 to grab some supplies and ammo. We'll come back here to leave with him later." 

Hanji, who had previously been silent until now, interrupted abruptly, "Oh nonsense! That's much too far to travel to only come back again, and, like you said, the high alert with make it ever so difficult. You can take any supplies you need from us, it is the least we can do after all."

I look over my shoulder at Mina and then to Erwin with a look of uncertainty. 

He nods. "Yes, that is fine. You're both welcome to stay and rest until nightfall. If you need anything, just ask Mikasa or Armin, you will find them upstairs. The sleeping quarters are just to the right of us if you had need for them. Until then, Jean, we need to go over a few things in private, if you'll follow me." 

I took that as our goodbye for now as the four of them ascended up the staircase and out of the recreational area without another word. Although, we did receive a beaming smile and frantic wave from Hanji.

I shrug off my backpack and let out a long groan, collapsing on the couch next to me. 

I heard Mina chuckle behind me before walking over to the food shelves on the other side of the large room, inspecting them absentmindedly. I run a hand through my mocha hair and close my eyes, slouching further into the couch cushions. 

Without moving I called out the her. "If this goes to shit, I'm blaming you."

She lets out a over dramatic gasp and moves to sit on the couch opposite. "And, praytell, how would it be entirely my fault?" 

I crossed my arms behind my head, tilting my face up and opening my eyes to look at her.

"You chose to do the drop on your own this morning and got beat up on the way home-" 

"Not my fault, but continue." 

"It was you're idea to go to the docks in the first place-" 

"You agreed to it." She was leaning forward at this point, holding her head in her palm while her elbow was supported by her knee, a smug smile on her face. She winced at the added pressure to her injured cheek and quickly changes sides. 

"And, just now, you were the one who was more open to the idea of smuggling him. 'Just cargo', remember?"

A serious expression now graced her face and she folded her hands together, head tilted towards the floor. "We need those guns, Marco. Not, necessarily, for the cards or for the contracts, but I..." She lowered her voice into a small whisper, "I don't want these guys to have them; the Fireflies. You saw what happened at the checkpoint area today, and that was just with their munition, imagine what they could do if they had all of our merchandise too! Although I don't agree with the army and the soldiers and whoever is running them, the way that the Fireflies handle things is ruthless and so fucking violent and I wouldn't be able to sleep at night just knowing that, whatever chaos follows them having those guns, I would have been a part of it. We would have been a part of it, Marco." 

I ponder what she says for a long moment, dwell on her emotions and overthink every line of her outburst to the point where I can't think differently. She's right. 

Leaning forward, I place one of my hands over her folded ones, encasing them in a tight, secure grasp. I don't say anything, just meet her eyes as she looks up at me and give her a reassuring smile. She returns it. 

My body then decides to voice it's concerns about my lack of sleep as I bellow out a long, loud yawn, my eyes crinkling and arms tensing. 

Mina lets out a laugh, "Maybe you should check out that sleeping area next door Erwin was talking about, you could use a nap. I'll be upstairs if you need me, I'm going to go talk to that Armin guy about the guns and us getting some supplies." 

Nodding my head blearily, I stood and grabbed my bag before moving to the door on the other side of the room I presumed led to the sleeping quarters. 

 

After I got over the post-nap dysphoria of general grogginess and heavyheadedness, my eyes blared suddenly and darted around the room quickly in panic, before I remembered where I was.

Sitting up, I attempted to tame the wild, sleep-fussed mess of my hair when I remembered the comb in my backpack, getting it out and running it through my locks. Yes, I keep a comb in there; I also have a barber's razor, nail-clippers, multiple toothbrushes and a few tubs of Vaseline. Hey, personal hygiene is important and this stuff is hard to come by, okay? 

After making myself look a bit less disheveled and more presentable, I made my way upstairs to try and find Mina. 

The light from an orange sunset outside shines through the high arched windows, illuminating the huge studio in a soft, subtle glow and casting long shadows across the hardwood floor.

I see Mina talking with a girl at the shooting range. Her hair is styled in a short, black bob, contrasting sharply against her pale skin and she looks like she could snap me in half if she wanted to despite her small stature. She's telling Mina about something, gesturing at whatever she's holding and then pointing to the target in front of them. 

I start towards them, curious, only to be stopped by a sudden pull at my sleeve that whips me around until I'm met with a pair of turquoise eyes meeting mine. I study him up and down and see that he's shorter than myself, with his head only just above my shoulder, and that his long, brown hair is... messy, to say the least. He tucks a stray strand behind his ear, beaming a large smile at me before unabashedly asking, "You're the smuggler right?"

Taken back slightly, I can only nod and answer, holding a hand out to him. "Yeah, that's me. Marco Bodt."

He seems to give me an approving look, eyes squinting before he opens them wide again and takes my outstretched hand in his, grip tight and determined. 

"Eren Jaeger. Well, I'm glad they found someone who's up for the job. I've got to say, even Mikasa and I were a little reluctant to do it. We've known Jean for a while now and, as much as he is an asshole, it'd be difficult to hand him off." A thoughtful look passes over his features as his gaze is directed in front of him, staring straight through me seemingly unfocused. 

I'm about to speak up when he raises his head, an unrecognizable look in his bright eyes. 

"Don't let him grate on you too much, he can do that." He silently ponders his next sentence, sucking in his lips slightly and thinning them out in thought. "Just... take care of him, okay, Marco? He's been through a lot, we all have, but- but he's had to do it on his own, so he's not exactly a great people person. There's probably going to be a few times where you want to punch him in his long fucking face, but just remember that all of this is much harder for him than it is for you. Even if he shows it by being a dick."

I don't know the deal between Jean and this Eren guy, but, whatever it was, Eren seemed to care a lot about him and what will happen to him. Hell, we would only be with Jean for a few hours, so there was no real need for him to be telling me all of this. But he seemed afraid, scared of something, though I'm not sure what. He was clearly worrying for his friend and to calm his mind was the least I could do. 

I placed a hand on his shoulder and squeezed slightly, the same way Mina always did with me. He looked up to meet my gaze and I gave him a reassuring smile. Nothing needed to be said. 

He returned it gratefully before letting out a loud puff of air and quickly pressing his hands together excitedly. 

"Oh! Over here!" He hurried towards where Mina and the black-haired girl were standing, dragging me behind him slightly by my sleeve and moved to what looked to be a workshop bench. We had now caught the attention of Mina and the girl as they walked towards us. 

Eren reached under the bench and pulled out the baseball bat that I had found earlier today. I'm not sure how he knew it was mine, but he seemed to have added a number of attachments onto it. Clean cut barbed wire was now wrapped around the top as well as long nails protruding outwards. I took it from him and held it for a moment, adjusting to the newly added weight, and studied the leather bound handle. He had also engraved a smaller version of the Firefly's emblem onto the round butt of the handle; a drawing of an insect - or bird, whatever it was meant to be.

"You did all of this? Wow." 

Eren held a hand to the back of his neck bashfully. "It's nothing really, quite simple actually when compared to some other jobs I've had to do here. Although, I did get a few cuts and splinters, but I'd say it was worth it."

I nodded quickly in agreement. 

"If you're wondering how he got it, I swiped it when you were sleeping. Mikasa, here, said that Eren was really skilled in weapon mods and all that stuff, so I showed it to him and he was happy to work on it," Mina piped up from where she stood next to us. 

The girl she had introduced as Mikasa had an expression of pride on her face as she looked at Eren. With her arms folded and head held high, she seemed like a mother showing off her child's achievements. 

I hold the bat in one hand and let the top drop to the floor. "What have you been up to, then?" I ask Mina.

She holds up the small knife in her hand and points at the targets behind them that were also littered with other petite blades. The one on the left seemed to have near perfect shots in the centre, while the target next to it had them scattered around the edges and some were even on the floor below it. 

"Mikasa's been teaching me how to throw knives. I've never been good at doing it and, since we had some time to kill, I thought that I'd learn a little more." 

She demonstrates this by turning, reeling her hand back and hurling the blade at the target in a sudden, fast movement. It plunges into the outer circle, furthest from the centre. She sticks her bottom lip out and lets out a heavy huff of annoyance. 

I let out a barely contained laugh and she spins around to snap back at me when sudden alarm blares outside of the building and a mundane announcement rings out. _"Attention! Curfew is now in full effect. Any caught outside of their homes past these ours will be arrested and prosecuted."_

Eren speaks up beside us, "They're setting that a bit early, aren't they? It's not even dark yet." 

Mikasa replies, her voice monotone and unwavering. "It's probably because of the little stunt these two pulled at the docks earlier." 

I try my damned hardest not to glare at her through the side of my eye, though mostly in fear that she would probably break me in two for it. 

 

Mina and I are stood in the street behind the Fireflie's base waiting for a certain Jean Kirschtein to show up so we can finally get moving. We had fully filled up on any supplies and ammo that we needed, along with a few extras thrown in, mostly by Eren. The homemade shivs were a nice touch. 

It was around midnight and a light rain was pouring around us. Luckily, it had lessened slightly; just a few hours ago a sudden downpour meant that it had fallen the heaviest it had been for months and that would have made things difficult. Not impossible, just harder than they needed to be. The puddles of water would cause splashing and that wouldn't do us any good. 

Mina's leaning against the side of the building by the door Jean should come out of soon inspecting her nails, when there's a knock on the other side and it opens allowing said person to walk through. 

He's wearing the same ragged denim jacket, this time with a light grey hoodie zipped up underneath and the hood pulled loosely over his head. A faded burgundy backpack similar to our own ones now adorns his back also. He looks up and gives a disapproving glare at the night sky, nose scrunching up as some small droplets of rain land on his face.

"You ready?" 

Jean's gaze darts to look at me and he nods.

I walk on and lead us through the streets and alleyways until we arrive at the basement of an old bakery that lies flush with the huge wall that separates us from the outside. There's a small crawlspace we need to pass through that opens up into a larger room on the other side. How the splintered, wooden support beams have held it this long and through so much is a mystery to me. With how narrow it is, we move in a single-file line, myself, Jean and then Mina. 

Mina actually chooses this moment to speak up, calling ahead through the tunnel as we crouch and move across the dirt floor. "So, Jean, what's the deal with you anyway? Are you some big-wig with the Fireflies or what?"

I can't see his face but I hear him barely contain a groan and grunt out, "Yeah, something like that." He's obviously not one for conversation. 

I'm first out of the small tunnel and take a moment to stretch my limbs when in the exit room. Once Mina and Jean join me, we make our way up a metal ladder attached to the wall and out of the hole at the top, moving the large board that covered it once I was high enough to slide it out of the way. 

The hole opens up into one of the huge trenches that surround the entire wall. As far as I'm aware, they were dug at the same time the walls for the Quarantine Zone were erected. Albeit raggedly done, leaving car wreckages, makeshift barricades and huge slabs concrete from the abolished road that once was there lay jagged and demolished causing plants to grow wild around them from the dirt underneath and a small river of rain to cover the bottom of the trench where it dipped in the centre. 

The rain was still only coming down lightly, thankfully, and I checked behind me at my companions before we continued ahead. 

An old cargo bed leaned against the steep side of the trench, creating a way to get out surely and safely. We walked through the centre of the truck to the open end.  
I was first to walk out when something slammed into the side of my head and I fell to my knees, vision suddenly turning blurred and dark in the already low visibility. 

_"Don't move and don't do anything stupid,"_ came a static voice and I look up to see a soldier, clad in full gear, with her rifle pointed at Mina and Jean, the flashlight attached to the barrel shining brightly in their faces causing them to wince and turn away slightly. Another soldier stands behind them inside the bed of the truck, ushering them outside. _"Move,"_ she says.

The other gives Jean a particularly hard shove and he trips slightly when exiting the truck, grunting and baring his teeth. _"Turn around, on your knees!"_ They both do so, with Mina to my right and Jean on my left. 

The female guard has now moved further away from us, from where she speaks up, _"You scan 'um, I'll call 'um in."_

 _"Put your hands behind your head."_ He pulls out what I recognize to be a scanner. They're used to identify any traces of Infection in a person and are said to be never wrong. A few weeks back, a house a few doors down from me was raided and all occupants were forced out immediately by soldiers in heavy duty gear and some in full body hazmat suits. They were made to sit in the same position on the street as we are now while someone went along the line with a scanner. These affairs were hardly ever done in private, open for all to see and bare witness, unless someone willingly handed themselves off as Infected. Though, usually, that never happened. All of the occupants showed negative for all signs of Infection apart from the last two, who attempted to run when they came out positive only to be gunned down immediately afterwards.

The other soldier stood a distance away from us and was talking into her radio. _"This is Dreyse at sector Twelve. Requesting pick up for three stragglers. Understood."_

Mina had the scanner pressed against her neck and she turned to face the guard. "Look the other way, we can make it worth your while," her voice was a harsh whisper with a slight persuasive lilt to it. 

In retort, he only harshly pressed the device harder into her neck and moved down the line to me. _"Shut up. I'm getting tired of this shit by you people."_

The scanner is cold against my neck and I hear a quiet electrical buzzing emitting from it. 

_"What's the ETA?"_ He looks around and asks the guard behind him. 

_"A couple of minutes."_

I hear Jean breathing heavily at the side of me and I turn cautiously to look at him. His eyes are screwed tightly shut and he's chewing on his bottom lip nervously. As the soldier presses the scanner to his neck, Jean's quietly muttering _Fuck fuck fuck'_ repeatedly. What the hell is wrong with him?

In a sudden flash of movement, he stuffs his hand into his pocket and whips around to stab the soldier in the leg with what I think is a switchblade, causing the guard to cry out loudly and earning the attention of the other who had previously been facing the other way with her back to us. 

Jean hurriedly stands and tries to wrestle the gun from the guard. He's overpowered, however, and is easily pushed to the ground on his back, eye's wide as the soldier aims the rifle in front of his face. 

I launch myself towards them and tackle the guard to the floor away from Jean and straddle him, both of us fighting for purchase with our hands on the rifle. A loud gunshot rings out somewhere behind me and there's a heavy thud as the female guard drops to the floor, flashlight shining wildly as she falls. Mina must have got her. 

I take one hand off the gun to slam the man's head into the ground under us, disorientating him, and twist the gun so that it is parallel with the floor, barrel facing the guards head. I quickly hurry my hand up the stock and press my thumb to the trigger, shooting him in the temple and splattering my front slightly with blood. 

My ears ring and I hang my head for a moment before I roll off the body, breathing heavily, and sit on the dirt with a hand in my hair composing myself. 

"Oh, shit." 

I tilt my head up and see Mina standing in front of me, the scanning device in hand and her mouth agape. "Look," she says as I stand and she throws it to me to catch. 

The word _'Positive'_ flashes repeatedly across the small screen in bright red letters. 

What the fuck? Jean was the last to get scanned, so he- 

I whip around to face Jean, confusion written on my face, but say nothing to him. Instead, I turn to Mina and exclaim, "Erwin set us up? Why the fuck are we smuggling an Infected guy?!"

Jean's still crouched on the floor, his hands fisted in the mounds of mud and dirt below him, shaking his head slowly. His eyes are wide and surprised. "I'm not Infected."

I look at him with my eyebrows raised and hold up the scanner before throwing it at his feet. "No? So is this lying?" 

He sputters and presses his hands to his head, caking his hair in mud, and then lowers them again, fisting them in his lap. "Damn it. I can explain, alright!"

Mina stalks forward in a few strides, still holding her handgun threateningly, but not aiming it. Yet. "Well, you better start explaining fast." 

Jean let's out a deep, shaky sigh and pulls his right sleeve up over his elbow. "Look at this!"

A large bite mark his embedded into is forearm, though the teeth indents are not deep and there's hardly any swelling or blood, nor any out of place veins or discolouration, despite some bruising. It looks like scar tissue in places, tight and twisted with pale pink bumps and ridges. 

I shout out at him and walk away slightly in the opposite direction, "I don't care how you got infected! Why-"

"It's three weeks old!" 

I turn back to him in confusion and anger. 

Mina snaps out a reply at the side of me, raising the gun slightly as her hold tightens. "Bullshit! No, everyone turns within two days, so you stop-" 

"It's three fucking weeks, I swear! Why would they set you up?"

I pace back and forth, a hand covering my mouth as I try to process all of this. Sure, the bite didn't look as bad as what I've seen before, but the Infection effected everyone differently, so how did we know that he wasn't Infected? There was no was in hell that thing had happened three weeks ago. 

A loud rumble in the distance catches my attention and I look up to find the bright headlights of an army vehicle making it's way towards us, it's huge, bulky shape sticking out obviously, tires crushing and squelching the muddy ground under it as it looms toward us. 

I call to Mina but my voice only comes out as a small squeak, "Mina, we need to run." I spin around to face her. "Go!" 

I look at Jean who's still on the ground and quickly grab his arm to pull him up and I drag him along with us, a decision I'll probably be regretting later. "Come on. Go! Move!" I shout to the two of them and we run to our right, away from the vehicle and the dead soldiers, up until the three of us reach another trench, this one deeper than before and further away from the wall, and we jump hurriedly into it taking refuge. 

I hear the army truck come to a stop, followed by the slamming of doors and the static shouts of the soldiers who had gotten out. 

_"Holy shit!"_

_"I've got two dead uniforms in sector Twelve. Requesting immediate backup!"_

A few moments later a blaring siren starts up and several search lights from the top of the wall are turned on, illuminating the ground above and part of the trenches. They seem to be on a cycle, their movements predictable and recognizable, the beams of light moving slowly back and forth after a period of time. 

We are crouched at the edge of the trench wall, with Jean between Mina and I. I look over my shoulder at them and point ahead of us to a small pipe embedded into the ground that I knew passed through multiple trenches and tunnels. 

Mina nods instantly, while Jean takes a moment to squint in the direction of the hole before he looks back at me and also nods. 

I quickly lead us through the pipe and out the other side. It opens up into another huge ditch, streams of water toppling over the edges at the top and into it, causing deep puddles of water to flood the floor of the trench. A couple of soldiers stand above us looking into the ditch, their flashlights pointed inside scanning and surveying.

_"They must have gotten through, check the trenches!"_

I let out a small whisper, "Stay low. There's guards right there," indicating the top of the surrounding walls.

From what I remember, at the end of this particular ditch is a large drop that leads out into the basement of one of the destroyed houses surrounding the QZ. We can move through there and further into the city where, hopefully, they won't see or follow us. Here's hoping my memory serves me right. 

I tilt my head around slightly. "It's going to be another sprint to the end. You ready?" I'm telling this more to Jean than Mina; she's been here with me before, she knows this route as well as I do. Although, we seldom take it under these conditions. 

I exited the pipe and hurry in the shadows through the trench towards the hole. I hear Mina and Jean's footsteps heavy and wet behind me, quick on my heels. 

We must have been spotted, because seconds before I'm about to jump into the ditch, the soldiers above shout loudly and bullets ring out around us, skimming us barely as we make every attempt to dodge them. Despite the search lights and their flashlights, the darkness provides us with an advantage, masking and obscuring us from their sight.

I hurry and jump straight down into the hole and am met with a freezing, deep pool of water, submerging my head for a moment before I resurface and swim towards a ledge on the other side that was the foundation supporting the basement. Pulling myself up, I spin around and saw Mina and Jean also swimming towards me. 

I let out a small sigh of relief and grab both of their hands in turn, pulling them up into the basement with me. I take care to grab Jean's left hand. 

We don't have time to stop, bullets are still being shot into the pool and more flashlights have now joined them. 

I jog up the stairs and into the wreckage of the house. 

When the outbreak had first spread and the walls for the Quarantine Zones were built, all of the surrounding cities and suburbs to them were bombed and near destroyed in attempt to kill any Infected, and thus the Infection. It had worked at first, lowing the number of confirmed cases largely for a few months, but in the end the Infection came back with full force. So much so that at one point Zone 5 was considered overrun and was almost cut off from the QZ altogether. 

This left the outside of the Quarantine Zone a huge mass of destroyed buildings and houses, wooden supports and foundations brought up the street level because of the sheer force of the blasts, making it both the perfect cover and hiding place, yet highly dangerous as this was still the outside after all.

I pull myself through an empty window frame and out of the house onto the street. The wall of the Boston Zone is now far behind from us, but not far enough. 

The edges of the street are encased in rubble and debris, yet the centre remains almost clear, save for a few cars and buses. The hard concrete road adds a welcome stability under my feet as I lead the three of us up and across the street. 

Static shouts and beaming flashlights ahead of us draw my attention and I move to crouch behind the rusted body of a car. "Another patrol, up ahead."

They're quite a distance in front of us so, if they don't head our way, we should do well not to be spotted. The group rounds a corner at the end of the road, heading in the direction we are also meant to go, but luckily not taking the same route I intend to lead us on. 

Once I'm certain we won't be seen, we quickly run through a wreckage on the other side of the street when we're stopped in our tracks at the sight of a pair of soldiers in front of us, thankfully facing the other way with their backs turned. We take cover behind a door frame and my eyes find Jean's in the darkness. I point a finger at his pocket then at him, mouthing, 'Left', before gesturing to myself with a, 'Right'. He glances at the two guards and then looked back at me to nod in affirmation. 

I pulled out one of the shivs Eren had given me and keep low to the ground as I move towards my designated target. 

I saw Jean out the corner of my eye moving to the other. He seems quieter than I am, slow and cat-like, his movements precise and calculated as he carefully steps one foot in front of the other creeping silently along the dirt and rubble-ridden floor. 

The two of us take the soldiers down successfully without any conflicts. As the knife pierced the side of his neck, my guard flailed and sputtered, gripping tightly at my arm and kicking his legs. In response I opened my other palm over his mouth, covering it and muffling any noises he let out. From what I hear at my side, Jean seems to have done the same thing, if not quicker, as he's already guiding the lifeless body down to the ground. Well, at least he's not entirely useless. 

Mina jogged up to us and, after taking whatever ammo the two guards were carrying, we moved through the house and out the back to where the entire foundation had collapsed, creating a deep drop into the ground behind the house. 

I'm the first to slowly climb down the different ledges of concrete, dirt and wood into the ditch, slipping slightly on the mud once I reached the bottom. My eyes take a moment to adjust to the darkness and I consider turning my flashlight on for a moment, but reconsider as that would only alert any near by soldiers. Mina and Jean had followed in after in me, Jean without trouble, though I find myself reaching up to hoist Mina down from the last ledge, much to her displeasure.

There's a huge pipe ahead of us, around three metres tall embedded into the dirt with a large hole torn through the side facing us. It leads to the storm drains that run under streets and sidewalks of the city. 

Passing through the pipe opens up into a square tunnel filled with water pouring in from the storm drain above. It lets in some light from outside so, thankfully, we're no longer in almost complete darkness. On the other side of the tunnel is a metal bar door that leads to an underpass in the centre of the city. 

I wade through the pool of water, soaking my legs and boots, though it luckily only reaches my hips. In this instance, the rain had come as a blessing; had it not have poured down a few hours ago, this would have been filled with old, stagnant water rather than the one that was there now, clean and fresh. 

I take care to avoid the streams of rain cascading in from above.

The sudden sound of voices from the road over us stops our movements. _"Base says to break off pursuit and report back to Sector Eleven. Get to your vehicles!"_

 _"You heard the man, we're going back to the wall. Load 'um up and let's move out!"_

The three of us seem to let out a sigh of relief in unison as loud engines roar to life and the army trucks plow down the street towards the Quarantine Zone and away from us. 

I continue to walk through the pool and climb out at the end, moving to push open the door. It's stiff and opens begrudgingly with a loud whine and I allow Mina and Jean pass me before pulling it shut behind us. 

The air at the underpass is silent, only the slight sound of running water behind us breaks it, but does nothing to help the tense atmosphere that now surrounds us. Jean lets out a groan and sits on a rock next to him, dropping his head and gripping at his hair with his hands, the sleeve on his right arm now pulled fully down once again. Mina closes her eyes for a moment before crouching next to him and placing a soft hand on his knee. 

"Jean, what was the plan? We hand you off to the Fireflies at the Capital building - what then? Do they know your infec- well... bitten?"

Jean lets his hands fall but keeps his gaze pointed at his feet. "Erwin and Levi - they said the Fireflies have their own little Quarantine Zone, with doctors there who are still trying to find a cure."

I shake my head and scoff, "Oh, yeah, we've all heard that one before," before turning away from them slightly. 

I can practically feel his gaze boring into the back of my head like fire before he starts up once again. "And that, whatever is... happening with me, that's they key to finding a vaccine."

I find myself laughing sarcastically. "Oh, Jesus!" 

"Look, it's what they said, alright?" 

"Oh, I am sure they did." 

Jean's on his feet in a instant, hands balled into fists at his sides and he looks ready to punch me square in the face at any moment. His sharp, hazel eyes are dangerous, jaw tense and I can't help but begin hold my own hands up in defense as he strides towards me threateningly. "Hey, fuck you, man! I didn't ask for this shit!" 

He's puffing his chest out once again. In response, I lean down close to him and sneer, "Neither did I." I move away from him and towards Mina where she is still sat crouched on the ground. "Mina, what are we doing here?" 

She looked up at me, her eyes full of confusion. "What if it's true?" 

I huff out another laugh, throwing my arms up slightly before turning away from the both of them. "I can't believe you-"

"Marco, we've come this far, let's just finish it." She's on her feet now and forceably turns me around to face her, her features a strange mixture of determination and exhaustion. 

I point a finger into the city in anger. "Do I need to remind you what is out there?! Running into one of those things is hard enough, and now you expect us to be walking around with one!" I ignore the highly irritated look Jean fires in my direction. 

Mina sighs and nods her head. "I know. Okay, I get it. But there's too much on the line here, Marco, so we're doing this." 

The look she gives me leaves me stunned and I find my words getting stuck in my throat. I remain silent and pinch the bridge of my nose, shaking my head and averting her gaze. She walks ahead with Jean slowly moving to follow her. I could feel his eyes on me but I don't turn to look at him.

 

I kept pace behind Jean and Mina as we continued through the city. We were headed downtown and if we continued at this rate, we'd hit the Capital building by sunrise. Nothing much was said between us, aside from a few queries about which way to go by Mina from where she led us at the front. Jean remained silent. 

The route we followed was one I, admittedly, hadn't taken for a long time. Although I still remembered which way to go, there was no telling if any structures had collapsed or if any areas were overrun so I was on edge. 

At some point we had entered a wrecked skyscraper through a smashed window at the bottom. The entire tower sat on a tilt, the building's foundations and supports having been destroyed during the bombings caused it to fall into a larger tower to the left of it and lean into the stronger building, not quite falling. The whole thing was by far structurally safe and it groaned and creaked loudly in protest to every gust of wind and rain against it, wobbling and moving the slightest of amounts. Thankfully, our presence in the tower would do nothing to set it off kilter; Mina and I had been here with a team of fifteen before and that served to do nothing to the building's balance. 

Once inside we headed for the staircase that would take us downwards, only to find it completely blocked off with rubble and old pieces of office furniture.

"I guess we'll have to go up another level and find a different set of stairs," I told the pair of them before we continued upwards. 

Upon turning around I saw a thick shroud of orange clinging to the air up ahead. Mina and I hurriedly got out our gas masks, pulling them over our heads and turned on our flashlights. I glanced at Jean and saw he made no effort to pull any kind of mask, simply stood waiting for Mina and I to finish. Our eyes met and his face twisted in annoyance before he turned away and I looked back at my bag, zipping it up and tugging it back on once I stood up again. Although I was still highly confused, I was in no mood to deal with another argument with him and, by the look he gave me, it seemed that was exactly what I'd get if I inquired about him not bothering with a mask so I said nothing. 

I led us up the stairs that opened up into a long hallway. The spore cloud seemed to be emanating from the end of the hall, which happened to be exactly where we needed to go. Whatever deity I had pissed off to deserve all of this bad luck better have some explaining to do. 

Leaning against a closed door sat the dead body of an Infected. Its entire face and part of the head was covered different kinds with yellow, pink and orange fungi; large plates smothering all distinguishable features apart from the mouth. That drooped open at the bottom of its face and bared long, yellow, pointed teeth, lips shrunken and peeled back to bare its dark and decrepit gums. The fungus had spread from its head and moved down the shoulders and back, now growing into the wall and encrusting to door behind it, leaving the body stuck in place. 

It didn't take any kind of closer inspection to tell that it was a Clicker. 

Now, a Clicker is, personally, my least favourite kind of Infected. After years of infection, thick layers of fungi form around its face and eyes, leaving it almost blind to all forms of movement and light. Because of this they see using sound, like bats or a submarine, emitting these creepy as shit high pitched clicks over and over and over again in a seemingly random pattern. Although you would think that them not being able to see you would be a bonus, you'd be so very wrong. Because of their lack of sight, every other sense is heightened, meaning that if you were even to step a little too heavily or move a bit too fast around one you would be dead. And they are fast, not as fast an a Runner, but terrifyingly so by how they can go from stood still and twitching to darting at you and wrestling you to the ground faster than you can blink. 

Finding out that there were indeed Clickers in this part of the city had put a huge spanner in the works; there were never alone, often travelling in small groups with some Runners. We would have to carefully watch every movement we made and refrain from doing anything unnecessarily noisy. Although, with the shivs that Eren had given me, if we did encounter some we would be able to take them down. Stabbing the head was practically useless, with all of the thick fungi surrounding it you'd be lucky if you even broke through enough to make one bleed. No, a deep, sharp plunge into the neck was how to kill a Clicker, even if it was a messy fucking job. 

"Damn it," I mumbled, kneeling down and reaching into my bag for a pair of worn leather gloves I kept for these situations. 

Jean then walked forward and gave the Clicker a small nudge with his boot, causing a few small chunks of fungi to fall from where it lay connected to the wall. He huffed slightly and rolled up his sleeves, exposing the faded bite, and seized the Infected by its shoulders, pulling it away from the door with a heave and dragging down into the open hallway away from us. The thick fungus snapped and broke in protest, a huge flurry of spores flying up into the air when the body was removed from the wall, at which Mina waved her hand at in attempted to disperse them. 

I was back on my feet now, stuffing now useless gloves into my pocket, and Mina and I both watched Jean in bewilderment as he rounded back and twisted the door handle, walking through and holding it open for us to follow him. A faint smug smirk graced his features for a small moment at what I presumed was our expressions before his face once again returned to normal. 

 

We continued through the tower and downwards until we reached the base. The floor and foundations had been long destroyed with the concrete and metal embedding into the ground allowing shallow puddles of water to pool and leaving ivy and plants to grow and climb the walls, wrapping around metal support beams and scaling higher and higher into the bowels of the tower.

Leading us downwards, I headed for a large hole that opened up into a long-abandoned underground subway station. 

There was no drop, only a straight walk through into a room with the walls lined with now cracked and dirtied creme tiles and all exits blocked off with rubble and wreckages, presumably from the bombings rupturing the ground from above. It was practically pitch-black, with only light coming from our flashlights. Thankfully, me and Mina had taken off our gas masks which had previously served to only weaken our vision further. 

We headed right and through a small gap in the wall, shimmying through the narrow passage. The sound of distorted, high pitched clicking up ahead stopped us and the three of us crouched behind a bench in front, peeking over the top. 

I spot around four or five Clickers occupying the large space up ahead, some standing still with their bodies twitching and convulsing, sharp jolts of movement ripping through their joints and muscles while others were slowing roaming around on unsteady and frail legs. One dumbly walks into one of the four tile-plated pillars and lets out a wild screech, clicks becoming louder and quickening in panic. 

We would have to make our way around undetected, there was no way we alone could take this many down without alerting the others, it'd be suicide. I lean down towards Mina and Jean, still keeping my gaze fixed on the Infected. "There's about five up ahead so it will be best staying silent. Jean, we're headed for the exit straight ahead of us, where the ticket gates are," I nod my head towards the area before continuing in still hush voice. "Pick up whatever debris and stones you can. We'll throw it to distract them, though try not to actually hit them instead," I throw a pointed look to Mina who huffs quietly and rolls her eyes. On our last trip to the outside, we got in a whole lot of trouble because Mina couldn't quite get her aim right, and I was determined not to let it happen again. 

Still crouched low to the ground, we made our way towards the exit, filling our pockets along the way. The three of us head in separate directions; Jean to the right, Mina in the centre while I went left. 

I kneel behind one of the large columns and hurriedly dig into the pockets of my jacket when a Clicker blindly stalks towards me, throwing a pebble in the opposite direction and drawing it's attention away from me. I pause for a moment and point my flashlight towards it, squinting slightly and see a brightly coloured orange cloth wrapped around the bicep of it's arm. A Firefly; they were known to wear them when venturing in groups outside of their Zones. 

I don't stop to check if any of the other Infected were part of the same group and hurry towards the exit. The actual doors to the station have been long barred off with security gates, though there is an opening in the wall above the right door that we can fit through. 

Jean is already there and waiting by the time I reach the exit. I quietly vault over the ticket gate and move to crouch beside him. The air is between us is still awkward as hell and, even if he isn't looking at me, I can feel his scowl at the side of me. Thankfully, Mina scurries toward us both and the atmosphere is lifted. 

After throwing a few more stones away from us, we move to the right door where I link my hands together and lean my back against it, nodding to the pair in front of me.  
Mina's the first to rush forwards, stepping onto my outstretched hands and gripping the ledge above as I hoist her up and she climbs onto it. Jean looks back and forth between me and the ledge nervously. Does he seriously think I'm going to drop him or something?

I shoot him a small smile despite the tension among us and make a show of securing my hold and leaning further into the door behind me. He lets out a breath before moving towards me and placing his foot in my hand. He's heavier than Mina, but lighter than I expected him to be and I have no problem pushing his foot up to help him onto the surface. Once fully up, I'm surprised to see him spin around and hold his hand out towards me, his left hand. 

Checking behind me and stepping back slightly, I jog to the door and jump up to find Jeans hand gripping mine tightly, pulling me up to the ledge. I place my other hand onto the edge and help to lift myself. Mina also grabs my shoulder, helping to yank me up to join them. 

When I'm settled on ledge we take a few moments to regain our breaths before walking out of the hole to the outside.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry for such a long wait with this chapter, I haven't had a whole lot of time lately as things have been really busy but it's here now so shush
> 
> Kudos and comments are forever appreciated or talk to me at my tumblr @ruder-ouge ! Thanks y'all <3


	4. Away with you

We had been travelling through the city for I don't know how long. The best guess I could give would be a few hours due to how the sky above us was now brightening with a rose tinted hue signalling the near sunrise. We were headed towards an abandoned Colonial museum close to the edge of town. From it we could get to the rooftops and bypass the huge blockade of rubble and obliterated buildings that separated us from the road to the Capital Building. It wasn't the most ideal or safest route to take, but it was one of the quickest. Here's hoping that Jean isn't scared of heights. 

The front entrance to the museum is completely inaccessible; the large stone pillars that once held up a decorative oval balcony on the second floor had long collapsed, blocking the doorway entirely. So we made our way towards the side entrance where we should be able to slip in through the loading dock. 

There's a truck trailer laying on it's side spread diagonally across the entrance of the alley. I can't spot anything nearby to climb up so I crouch at the bottom and hold my hands out, the same as before. "Come on," I say with a nod to Mina. 

She runs up to me and grips the edge of the truck as I hoist her up. It groans and creeks in protest to the newly added weight and she hurries to stand steadily once safely up.  
I turn and get back into position facing Jean with my back against the worn metal roof of the truck. 

My eyes catch a slight movement in the distance behind him and I squint to focus on it. A group of around, I think, eight or so Runners linger around the entrance to a building we had just cut through. The damn bastards must have been following our scent. They don't seem to have spotted us yet, so I keep my voice low and look at Jean who had seemed to followed my gaze and saw the group too. 

Needing to keep both our movements quiet, I nod to Jean and mouth, _'One, two, three'_ , before he's running at me with his silent feet and pulling himself onto the truck.

There's an insanely loud, agonizing tear of metal above my head and suddenly Jean's falling back onto me. I grit my teeth and hold my hands tighter together to support his weight. Darting my gaze upwards, I see that the edge of the truck had ripped off from where he had grabbed it and that Jean was still clinging to the piece of broken metal, wobbling in my hold with one foot in the air and the other held securely in my palms, the rugged sole of his steel-toe boot digging harshly into them. 

With a sharp intake of breath, I push him up further and he responds by placing his foot on my shoulder and attempting to shimmy along the truck's edge in a panicked state. Mina's there in a instant to grab his wrists and help hoist him up to where she currently is. When Jean's safely on the truck, she shouts down at me, and holding out her hand, "Marco, hurry!" The sudden sound of something crashing into a car and inhuman wails behind me causes my head to spin around and I'm met with the group of Infected that had been following us. They're still far away, though, so I'm quick to jump up and grab Mina's outstretched hand. 

Jean is standing beside her, making an attempt to also grab me but is quickly stopped by Mina yelling, "No, Don't! I've got him. You go get the gate to the loading dock behind us, quick!" His head turns to look at the side of the museum before rapidly nodding to Mina and jumping off the truck. 

I grip desperately at the side, making sure to avoid the jagged sheet of metal now torn off it, and put all my strength into pulling myself up and over. I hear the screech of Jean opening the gate on the other side and the rattle of the chain he is yanking and Mina's suppressed choking sounds above me as she struggles to hold my weight and heavy, misplaced footfall behind me accompanied by a series mindless screams. With one last boost of energy, I toss myself onto the top of the truck with Mina, panting and sweeping my sweaty hair off my forehead. 

She's then pushing me straight off the side, wasting no time as we sprint towards Jean, who has now pulled the loading gate open just under half way. The Runners are close behind us, clawing their way up and over the truck, right on our heels. 

Jean grips the chain used to raise the gate and keeps it there as the two of us crouch under it and move into the safety of the loading dock. I spin around to hold it up for him to follow in after us and he dashes in quickly. I drop the gate immediately and the Infected outside are left clawing, scratching and banging against the solid metal. I let out a long exhale and hold my hands on my hips, tilting my head back. Jean clears his throat at my right and I raise an eyebrow at him when he lets out a small chuckle amid his panting. "You've- you've got something on your shoe."

I look down and see the arm, from the elbow down, of one of the Infected with the hand gripping at my boot, it's long and dirty fingernails tearing into the sturdy leather though with little success at doing any actual damage. I cringe and shake my foot wildly in response, causing the arm to fly off and flop idly onto the concrete ground of the bay. Mina let's out a laugh, shaking her head and mumbling something along the lines of _'Jumpy idiot'_ before walking to the door at the back of the loading dock that led the museum. 

The interior of the building is in every state of disarray; broken furniture, shelves, chairs and tables are scattered across the whole of the ground floor, making it impossible to tell if this was once an exhibit or storage. Colonist manikins with the paint chipping off and clothes torn are stacked in a pile in the center of the room, some still holding their replica musket rifles and I narrowly avoid walking straight into one of the bayonets pointing outwards. The wooden flooring on the second floor had collapsed partially in one of the corners, creating a make-shift ramp upstairs that we carefully follow up. 

Most of the walls around us seemed to have all caved in, leaving hardly any room to maneuver around, except for a small tunnel to our right. Crouching, I lead the three of us through and find that the open doorway at the end is blocked with two fallen wooden support beams stacked on top of each other.

Grabbing a metal pipe from the side of me, I wedge it under the bottom beam and take a few moments to ready myself before pulling the pipe up and lifting both beams up just enough for Mina and Jean to slip underneath. "Watch your head," I gasp out through gritted teeth.

Once through the doorway, they both quickly turn and attempt to hold up the two beams for me to follow them. The wood groans and in a sudden flash the beams splinter and the wall around the doorway collapses. I stumble backwards on my ass to narrowly avoid being crushed by any falling debris. "Marco!"

Finally, the dust clears and I spot a tiny gap between the wreckage with Mina and Jean poking their faces through desperately searching for me, eyes wide and alarmed. "I'm alright, don't worry. I'll-I'll find another way around," I call to them but I'm interrupted by the piercing wail of a Runner and the irreplaceable sound of a Clicker somewhere ahead of me on the other side of the wall. 

"Shit, they're here!"

Jean gives Mina's arm a tug, pulling her along with him. "Come on, we've got to go! He'll be fine."

She gives one last fleeting look at me, eyebrows knitting and face scrunching up as she sucks in her lips, before she bolts around and the two of them hurry away from the doorway into some other part of the museum. 

I turn on my flashlight, looking around and find that the disturbance had caused the tunnel to separate and splinter off to the right in some other direction. I follow it round. My knees are aching from crouching at this point and once out of the tunnel I have to stop myself from standing and stretching my legs. I have to stop myself from doing anything as I'm met with what seems to be a very, very, very aged Clicker, given by the sheer mass of the fungus extending from its head. The long, pointed pink shards and the thick yellow plates give the illusion that it's wearing a golden crown atop its head, adorned with bright jewels and fixtures. 

I remain quiet enough that it doesn't notice me, thank God, and continues hobbling through the hallway, almost tripping over its own feet in the process. I hurriedly pull out my gloves and tug them on, also getting out one of Eren's shivs and follow silently after the Clicker. There's nothing else in the hallway, nor any open doors or broken walls where I might be spotted by any other Infected, so I quickly take it down with a swift and direct stab to the neck and set the body gently down onto the floor. 

I take a moment to admire how intact this part of the museum actually is. Faces from ancient paintings that I might recognize if I had paid more attention in History class stare back at me from their places on the walls around me. Various tea-sets and flatware constructed from now dull, bleak silver take refuge in the display cases across the hallway and it's a wonder why they haven't been looted yet. I'm not sure what kind of person would want a tea-set in times like this, but with a good scrub they could fetch in a decent price. Maybe I could convince Mina to stop here on our way back and take a good look around. 

A loud scuffle in the room ahead of me paired with the sound of Mina yelling had my attention instantly. Wasting no time, I ram myself straight into the door in front of me, but it doesn't budge. I jog backwards for a few steps before sprinting towards it and barging it with my shoulder. The door flies open and my panicked eyes dart around the small and narrow room. 

Up ahead Mina's being pinned against a wooden display cabinet by a Runner. She's got a secure grip on its shoulders, holding it at arms length away from her, though its hands are still flailing and clawing at her causing her to rear her back in defense. I can't see Jean anywhere but right now I don't care, it doesn't matter. She must have heard the door slam open because her gaze suddenly meets mine and I could have sworn that the mournful look in her eyes only got sadder. I neglect to ignore it and instead tug my baseball bat off of the loop on my bag and stride towards her, readying it. 

She seems to understand and uses the last of her strength to push the Runner away a few meters in front of her, leaving me optimal room to swing my bat directly into its skull and topple it onto the floor. The nails protruding out of the bat are now deeply embedded into the weathered flesh, but its hands are still reaching up to grip weakly at my pant leg and its legs are still kicking and twitching against the floorboards. I quickly place my foot on the shoulder and rip the bat from it, brutally bringing it down once again and delivering the final blow. 

Our panting breaths are deafening in the near silent room and I don't yet bother to pull my weapon out of the Runner. Instead, I move and wrap my arms around Mina tightly, hugging her close to me and making sure that she's still here, that she's alright. She returned it, shaking slightly with her forehead pressed against my shoulder. 

We stay like that for a long moment, with my chin resting on top of her head and our once rapid breathing had now slowed and calmed in unison. I press my lips softly to her crown before we depart and look at her face. It's still deathly pale, which I assume is from the sheer shock of what had just happened. Holding my hands out, I grip her biceps and ask, "Are you okay?"

She remained silent and had yet to meet my gaze, eyes still fixated on the body that lay on the floor. I bend my legs a little and lower myself to meet her face, giving her a smile. She shook her head, bringing herself out of the haze, and gave me the same small smile, though it didn't quite reach her eyes. "Yeah... Yeah, I'm okay. As much as I can be, at least," she answered, tugging her tan leather jacket around herself more securely. 

I nod to her and turn around to retrieve the baseball bat. It's still implanted into the crushed skull of the Infected and I find myself once again putting my foot on its shoulder to tug it out. The end is now splattered with blood and stray bits of flesh. Cringing, I attempt to rid it of some by tapping it against the floorboards and shaking it vigorously. 

"I have no idea where Jean is. We got split up a few rooms back by this guy," she motions to the body on the floor, giving it a small tap with her shoe. "He could be anywhe-"

"Ah, fuck!" Jean's muffled voice rings out from somewhere above us, causing Mina and I hurry out of the small room and up a staircase to the upper floor. At the top of the stairs lays three dead bodies with blood pooling around them; two Runners, the other a Clicker. Damn. Well, let it not be said that the guy can't handle himself. 

Jean lets out another yell, followed by a heavy thud and a loud wail. The pair of us rush in the direction of the sound and barge through a closed door to find Jean bent over panting heavily with his hands rested on his knees. His head bolts up at the sound of us entering the room and relief graces his features at the sight of us. At his side is a rather large Runner being impaled into the floor by a pointed flagpole; the good old Star-Spangled banner draping over it now soaks in the blood gushing out from the Infected's chest. It doesn't appear to be fully dead yet, however. Gasping shouts and screams still pour out and its limbs are still wiggling uselessly. At my side, Mina pulls out her handgun and walks over to the body, shooting it in its forehead and ceasing all movements. 

Looking around the large display room I can also see a dead Clicker next to him, mouth hung open exposing its elongated teeth with Jean's switchblade stabbed deeply into the side of its neck. I meet his eyes and ask, "You've certainly done some work up here. You okay?" 

He bends and retrieves his knife before standing straight again and inspecting it. "I'm fine, just a bit winded," he replies and pockets the blade. 

Mina walks across the stretch of the room to a fire escape that takes us to the roof. Jean and I follow up after her and, once on the roof, the three of us stand for a moment looking out onto the ruined city. One building in particular sticks out among the skyline, with its golden dome protruding out from the roof shining brightly with the rising sun. Mina nudges Jean and remarks, "There. That's our building," pointing towards it. 

There's a large wooden plank situated between the museum and the building ahead of us laid out on the small wall at waist height in front of us, creating a bridge to cross. Someone must have taken this route not long ago and not bothered to move it. 

I place my hands on it, shaking it slightly and test its stability. "This thing seems fine. Just watch your step as you cross it, because the whole thing is going to be a little unstable," I tell the pair behind me, making a wavy gesture with my hand while doing so.

Mina climbs up first and hobbles across the plank. Holding it at the end for her, I look towards Jean who wears a surprisingly content expression on his face. "What? No grouchy face? What's got you so relaxed?" 

He gives me a sharp look, but it quickly fades when he motions out onto the vast city and the light bloodstained sky before us. "Call me sappy but I've never seen a sunrise like this, so high up at least. Just taking it all in, you know?"

I follow his gaze out onto the skyline and find myself getting lost in the streams of light projecting through the sparse clouds now covering the blazing sun. I nod and reply, "Yeah. You can't deny that view." My eyes find the Capital building in all its glory and I'm snapped back to reality. Focus, Marco. Almost there.

I tap my palm reapeatedly against the wooden plank in a distacting motion and move aside. Jean gives me a look and seems to understand, climbing up and slowly making his way over to Mina. I take a few moments to collect myself, running my hands over my face, through my hair and back again, before I steadily tread over the makeshift bridge to join them. 

 

 

The Capital Building and the street leading up to it are surprising well kept. The building itself is fully intact, save for the occasional bush of ivy dispersed on the walls and some of the surrounding fences having been crushed or have been completely torn from the wall, most likely for scrap and salvage. One side of the uneven road is filled with a pool of murky green water, algae and lily pads littering its surface and I can spot a few frogs swimming around leisurely. 

Jean and I are following behind Mina, who is a considerably fair distance away from us, walking at a pace that even the two of us are finding difficult to match. It's odd. She's usually the one who insists on closeness and staying together, why is she in so much of a hurry? It's not like we're behind schedule or anything. She stops at the water and diverts us around it until we're striding up the steps of the Massachusetts State House, or so the says the bright gold lettering above the gate at the front. 

I heave open the heavy white door and let out an exasperated sigh at the sight inside. "Shit."

Mina barges past me and I stumble slightly at the force of it. "No. No, no, oh God no!" She runs towards the dead bodies of the rendezvous team, tripping and crawling towards them. Wasting no time, she instantly starts searching their pockets, bags, shoes, anywhere there might be something hidden. She seems... panicked.

Jean follows in through the doorway and I hear him inhale sharply, holding it for a moment while he closes his eyes and clenches his fists. He doesn't turn to me or Mina, eyes still fixated on the Fireflie's bodies while he asks, "So, what happens now?"

I don't bother answering his question. Mina's still searching in front of us, mumbling small, worried phrases to herself as she practically rips open every garment on the three bodies, their blood now staining her hands and now her face as she violently pushes back some strands of wilting hair from her forehead.

"What are you doing, Mina?" I walk towards her, annoyance heavy in my tone. 

She doesn't stop her rummaging to answer, "Maybe they - ah - maybe they had a map, or, or something to tell us where they were going."

"How far are we going to take this? This was not-"

"As far as it needs to go, Marco!" I can't ignore how her voice wavers as she says my name and looks up at me with her big, brown, determined eyes, contrasting sharply with her unusually pale skin. Those eyes widen suddenly and she turns to Jean. "Jean, do you have any idea where they were headed? Where this Zone of their's is? With the doctors?"

Jean shakes his head and croaks out, "They never said exactly where, for security reasons. Hanji only mentioned that it was someplace out west."

Mina hangs her head, her dark pigtails drooping down with it and clutches at the jacket of the body before her. She puffs out hurried, stuttered breaths and, even from here, I can see that she's shaking. I try to calm myself, taking a few breathes myself and asking. "What are we doing here? We both know this is not how things go, Mina. This is not us."

She lets out a sarcastic laugh, craning her head up to look at me. "And what the hell do you know about how things go, huh?!" She stands up and places herself directly in front of me, her eyes not leaving mine. From here, I can see that they're bloodshot. "The way things go, Marco, the way things have always been has never worked out. We're shitty people who do shitty things. It's been that way for a long, long time-" 

"No, we do what need to. To survive-!"

"This is our chance-!"

"It is over, Mina! Let's just go home. _Please_."

"I'm not-!" She lets out a sob and holds her hand to her mouth. Her face searches mine and considers, thinks, doubts and, finally, accepts. She lowers her hand and squeaks out, "I'm not going anywhere." Her voice is so small now, her once intimidating stance shrinks and is now frail and meek as she cowers in on herself. "This- this is my last stop."

I feel my face contort and shift in confusion as I take a step towards her. "What?" 

She takes a step back in turn and won't meet my gaze, focusing on anywhere but my face. "I... I won't be leaving here, Marco."

I extend my hand out to her, reaching to grab her arm, her hand, anything. Just something to ground her, to keep her from moving away from me. "What are you going on about?"

Mina rears back instantly, creating a large distance between the two of us. "No, don't! Don't touch me!" It's only a meter or two, but the space feels thick and shrouded, like if I dared to step foot into it I'd be overcome by whatever darkness inhabits it, whatever she had put between us. 

Jean's voice breaks the silence. "Oh fuck. She's Infected." 

The words pierce my gut and I forget how to breathe. My lungs feel empty yet full at the same time, a sensation I can only describe as drowning. Drowning in the idea that the one thing in my life that matters may be gone, that I'll never get to spend another day with her, that I'll never see that gap-tooth smile greeting me again. It's suffocating. I don't want believe a word he says, but I find myself unable to look Mina in the face to see if it might be true. I fix my gaze on the floor below. My eyes stray towards the dead Fireflie's at the side of us, the blood staining their clothes and their lifeless open eyes staring up at the ceiling. 

A tiny voice calls out to me and my jaw tenses, "Marco..." 

I muster up the courage to look at her. And I do, slowly. She looks so, so small, trembling with one arm held across her stomach, the other hanging lowly with the fist clenched. When my eyes meet hers, her bottom lip quivers and her bloodshot eyes well up with tears that have yet to fall. 

I keep my voice steady. "Let me see it."

She shakes her head and whispers, "I didn't want you to-"

I raise my speech an octave. "Show it to me." 

She lets out a heavy breath but doesn't turn away, keeping her gaze fixated on me, as I am her, while she reaches an unsteady hand up to the collar of her tan jacket and pull it to the right, revealing a deeply embedded bite in the crook of her neck. Thick welts of blood drip down from the wound and onto her undershirt, though it was unrecognizable against the black fabric. The surrounding tissue had bruised severely, turning several harsh shades of purples, blues, pinks and reds, greens and browns, all smothering her skin like some sick painter's pallet. Hundreds of thin purple veins spread outwards along her shoulder and towards her collarbone, showing strikingly against her now thin, pale skin. My eyes follow one particular vein along its journey, shifting and turning along her neck and looping under her ear, to where it fades away at her temple and I think to myself how I did not notice that before. 

Mouth gaping, I force myself to meet her face once more and, at her expression, I can feel my own tears creep into the corners of my eyes. She shifts her head, turning away and faces the ground for a few moments, the silence like a lead weight between us, before she once again raises her head and looks at me. Although I can still see the solemness behind her eyes, she now bares a look of determination clenching her jaw and holding her head high. 

"Let me show you something," she forces out striding towards Jean. I had forgotten he was there. She yanks his hand forcibly from him and pulls up the sleeve, tugging him towards me, "Give me your arm. You see this?! This was three weeks. I was bitten a few hours ago and it's already worse! This - this is fucking real, Marco!"

She continues talking but I don't hear her. I can only watch her lips move and hands flail as she shouts at me, screams for all I know, while I stand there helpless. It's ironic in a sense. She's the one who's dying yet acting as if she's perfectly fine and ready to conquer the entire city, while I can't even register what is happening. I'm still drowning.

I flick my eyes upwards and see the streak of blood across her forehead heading towards her hairline. At this point she had let go of Jean, I couldn't see him near or around her so I couldn't care less where he was. Not now. My footfall is deafening in the near silent room as I slowly tread towards her. I look down at her expecting to see her large eyes staring up at me, but I'm only met with the blood as she points her head downwards, avoiding me. The atmosphere is softer now, yet still sharp and painful and I can't help but feel so empty inside. Lifting my hand up, I lick a stripe over my thumb and smear the digit across her forehead, following the streak and cleaning any remnants of blood away from her freckled face. I jump slightly when she lets out a sob. My hand continues its descent, following the curvature of her head as I smooth down her hair and cradle the back of her head. 

I could tilt her head upwards to look at me. I could meet her eyes and see how wet her cheeks are, how wide and red and puffy I know her eyes must be. I could watch her lips quiver and chin shake as she struggles to maintain herself. But I can't bring myself to. I'd never be able to forget her face like this if I look now; that's not how I want to remember her. Hell, my minds already plagued with her bite, I don't think that I could handle anymore. No, all I want to remember is brown pigtails and the biggest pain in my ass, stupid nicknames and the goofiest, silliest, yet most perfect smile that I will ever see. My partner in crime and the one to stitch me back together, as I am to her. 

All care of the Infection slips from my mind as I wrap my arms around her shoulders and pull her tightly against me. I feel her arms loop around my midsection and hear her let out muffled sobs against my shirt. "I'm sorry, Marco. I'm so, so sorry." 

Squeezing her tighter, I shush her and kiss her head repeatedly, stopping to tilt my face and rest my cheek against her crown. "It's not your fault, it's- it's no one's fault," I stutter out in a whisper meant for her ears only. 

"I don't want to go, Marco. I don't want to leave you and I- I don't want you to- to leave me."

I squeeze my eyes shut as hard as I can. She needs me to be strong right now; I need me to be strong. I can only raise a hand up and continue soothing her hair. The front of my shirt is now damp and a few patches of blood wouldn't be amiss with how close Mina is against me. 

My gazes moves down and hovers over the broken and cracked watch that resides on my left wrist. My jaw clenches and I let out a small sigh. "I'll take him to Tommy's. For you. And for Jo- for Dad. He used to run with these guys, he must know something."

I can feel her take in a sharp breathe against me and hug me tighter. She stays quiet but I know that she's thankful. 

There's a loud rumble of an engine outside of the building and Jean rushes towards the window, gasping out, "Oh shit. Soldiers." 

Mina pulls away from me instantly in shock, joining Jean at the window. I can see her face now and it's everything I expected. A few tears escape my eyes at the sight and she turns away, rubbing her face with sleeve before facing me again. Jean moves to stand beside me as she quickly shrugs off her backpack, pulling out her handgun beforehand and tosses it to us. I catch it and look at her in confusion. 

"Take this, I won't be needing it. Not anymore. I- I can buy you both some time, but you need to run. Now." 

Jean coughs out at my right, "You expect us to just leave you here?!" 

Mina takes a few moments to adjust herself, eyes closed, before answering, "Yes." 

I shake my head, "There is no way that-" 

"I will not turn into one of those things!" She strides forward and stands in front of me, staring directly into my eyes. She sucks in her lips sobbing out, " _Please_ , Marco. Make this easy for me." 

"I could help-" 

"No, no just go!" She shouts, pushing me away roughly. " _Just go_."

I squeeze my eyes shut. "Jean, get a move on. Now!"

I walk backwards out of the room, securing the door behind us while Mina turns around so we're left with her back facing us as she raises her gun towards the door. 

_"Watch the exit!"_

_"We know you're in there! Drop you weapons and come out with your hands up!"_

 

 

Everything after that is a blur. We maneuver through the Capital Building, taking down a few soldiers that we come across, but I don't register it. My body just moves at it's own accord without any instruction from my head, like I'm stuck on auto pilot. I had noticed that I was still carrying Mina's backpack in my left hand throughout the entire thing. Once we were positive that we weren't being being followed, I continued to lead us towards the river that cut through the city and crossed the bridge over into Cambridge. No words had been said between Jean and I, aside from remarks of assistance when avoiding the guards. The air was tense around us and I could tell from the looks Jean kept throwing me that he wanted to say something. 

I stopped to rest when we were over the bridge. Slouching against the metal railing at the side of the road, I held my head and took a few moments to compose myself. The events of what had just happened were still fresh in my mind, altering my concentration on reality.

"Hey, Marco. Um... About Mina, I... I don't even know how to-"

I stayed perched on the railing and lifted my head to face Jean. "Look. Okay, here's how this is going to play out; you aren't going to bring up Mina - _ever_. Actually, let's just keep our histories to ourselves. You don't delve into my life and I won't bother with yours. Secondly, you don't tell anybody about your... condition. People will either think you're crazy or they'll try to kill you. And lastly, what I say goes, alright? You do what I say, when I say it. Clear?" 

Jean stands for a moment with his eyebrows raised before he scoffs slightly and folds his arms. "Yeah, sure." 

I stand and dust myself down. "And lose the attitude, if that's even possible. Chances are we're going to be travelling together for some time and neither of us want to spend it with a stick up their ass." I walk forward a little, ignoring the snide remark Jean makes in return, and point out towards the city. "Now, there's a town a few miles West of here - Lincoln. There's a couple there that Mina and I-" I feel my chest clench and I have to take a moment before continuing. "They're sort of business partners of mine. Good at finding merchandise. There's a high chance they can set us up with a car." 

I look over my shoulder at Jean and see that, although his arms are still folded, his expression seems a little less stubborn. "Okay," he replies and we begin heading into the city.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi y'all  
> I'm sorry for such a long wait on this chapter and that it wasn't as long as previous ones, I honestly just found this part particularly difficult to write? I wrote this scene out a number of times and none were really working for me and so began the long and continuous cycle lol  
> Thanks for reading and thank you for all the lovely feedback that I've gotten so far !


	5. A friend in need

 

After a few hours Jean and I arrived at the outskirts of Lincoln. It was now mid-afternoon and with the thick early August heat it goes without saying that the pair of us had worked up a hell of a sweat. As per my request, Jean hadn't brought up Mina any further and I was silently thankful for it, because as of yet I still had no idea how to completely process it.

I still felt numb and empty, like my mind wasn't dead-set on reality, whether that was some kind of internal coping mechanism or that my head hadn't yet come to terms with it all I wasn't sure, but I knew that I couldn't dwell on her right now. As much as it pained me, I had to get all thoughts of her and that fucking bite, her bloodshot eyes and her desperate croaking voice out of my head. We had to find Connie and Sasha by nightfall. Because they were the only ones living here - well, human at least - the rest of the town was close to being overrun with Infected and I highly doubt that we'd be able to find anywhere safe enough to spend the night without them. 

I had begrudgingly distributed the contents of Mina's bag between us, giving our own ones a little added weight but nothing overbearing. I rolled up the actual backpack tightly and stuffed into the sleeping roll attached to the bottom of my own.

We had stumbled across a broken-down army supply truck on our way to Lincoln containing a few empty supply crates in the back, with the bonnet pried open and bumper ripped off in search of parts, exposing an empty socket at the front where the engine should have been. It must have died on the way to the Boston QZ quite some time ago. After searching around in the front seats, I opened the glovebox to find a two packets of unopened cigarettes, a rather aesthetically pleasing Zippo lighter and a loaded G17 pistol. I gave Jean the gun and kept the rest; I didn't smoke, but you get could a lot for a good condition carton with the right buyer. With the gun, at least now Jean won't have to depend on that tiny knife, although I wouldn't want to be on his bad side when he's using it. There was nothing else worth taking in or around the truck so I led us closer to the town. 

I vault over the surrounding fence to a long abandoned fire-station, with one of the rusted, red trucks still sitting in the bay having been all but stripped down to it's basic shell. Jean follows close behind me and, deciding to get a better view of the town ahead, I lead us up a ladder attached to the side of the building. It squeaks desperately and wobbles to the point where I think we're about to fall backwards off this thing, so I pick up the pace, albeit carefully, until we reach the roof. 

Sheltering my eyes from the sun with my hand, I look out onto the stretch of the town. That being said, there wasn't exactly much of a town to look at. A railway line cutting through the road opening onto the town, a few restaurants, a school, a supermarket, an auto repair shop and quite a few storage areas dotted around are all there is to it, aside from a large number of houses, apartment complexes and an old motel. There's a stream of smoke billowing up from somewhere near the tall, still intact church close to the centre.

Jean speaks up at my right, "Is that them?" 

I try to contain my uncertainty as I lower my hand and reply, "Hopefully."

"Where do you usually meet them?"

"Oh, erm... you know, different places."

He turns to me with an eyebrow raised, a hand on his hip as he questions, "Wait, you've never actually been here, have you?"

I sigh, but don't give him the satisfaction of meeting his gaze, instead continuing to face the town and reach a hand up to bashfully scratch at the back of my neck. "No, I have. It was a few years ago, though; when I first met them, actually. They prefer to do the transfers away from here, which is understandable." I can practically feel Jean's disapproving gaze glaring into the side of my head. I don't try to hide the annoyed roll of my eyes when I turn my head to face him. "Look, it's highly unlikely that they've moved anywhere else so I know that they've got to be here somewhere," I huff out. 

"'Somewhere'," Jean mimics sarcastically while looking out onto the town. He faces me once again, folding his arms and nodding towards the church. "And you think that smoke is them?" 

"It sure better be. Come on." 

Once off the roof, we continue along the highway into town until we're met with a makeshift blockade stacked high on the other side of the tracks between the train station and an apartment complex to the left of it; various pieces of scrap, wood, metal, fences, furniture, just about anything and everything had been nailed, screwed and stuck together, all topped off with thick bushes of barbed wire on the bottom, sides and edges. Guess we'll have to find another way around. I look around for a few moments and spot a chain-link fence outside of a post office along the railway to our left that hadn't been completely blocked off. I start leading Jean to it, but upon closer inspection I can see that the door is barred shut on the other side with a metal pipe stopping it from opening. I jiggle the gate and give the fence a heavy shove with my shoulder but it doesn't budge. 

I sigh heavily in annoyance, turning around and move further down the tracks in attempt to find a different entrance. I call to Jean over my shoulder, "This way, we'll try and find another way around." 

He doesn't move and gestures to the top of the gate. "What? No, just boost me up. Look, the top of gate hasn't got any wire on it so I'll be fine." 

I let out another quiet sigh, tousling my hair and subtly rolling my eyes before I move over to Jean and inspect the top of the fence. The top is indeed wire free and reasonably accessible. I give Jean a drained look, my mouth frowning. His own expression is quite smug; sharp eyes squinting slightly, his eyebrows raised with a sly grin stretching across his lips.

I contain my want to punch him in that smug face and crouch at the bottom of the gate, leaning my back against the unsteady chain-link. "Alright, fine. Don't do anything stupid, just move the pipe. And try not to make too much noise."

Jean grumbled something intelligible as he secures his foot in my hands and I push him up and over. He fiddles with the pipe for a few moments before yanking it out and swinging the gate open. It's about the length of his arm and I notice him inspecting it, turning it in his hands and testing the hardiness by squeezing it in different places. Crouching, he slugs off his backpack and opens up the zip just enough to slot the pipe inside, though the length of it allows some to stick out meaning that he can grab it quickly if he needs to. 

As I'm leading us to the main road outside of the post office Jean speaks up, "So, we happen to get a car from these partners of yours; then what?" 

"Then we find Tommy."

"Erwin said he was a friend of yours?" 

"That's right. And more importantly, he was a Firefly. He'd know where to take you. He lives far from here, though, which is why a car would be fantastic, because, at the rate things are going, I am in no way up for a commute like that." I don't mention that I haven't had any contact with him for years, nor do I even consider that he may not help us even if we do find him. Things had changed between us. Many years back while Tommy was running with the Fireflies, he was involved in a huge plan to override a government base somewhere on the West coast. He became obsessed, so overcome that he slowly lost sight of everything else; Mina and I, friends, family, hell even food and shelter, nothing mattered to him, nothing but the Fireflies' cause and what he could do to help them. To put things briefly, a week before everything was meant to go down he and I had a fight, a big one. There weren't any fists thrown or anything like that, but some things were said that never should have been, by both of us, and Mina and I left for Boston the next morning. A few months passed and Mina caught a rumor that he had left the Fireflies altogether, though I didn't know whether or not to believe it and my pride prevented me from confronting him in person. Talking with Erwin and Levi had been the first I'd heard of him in a long, long time. 

Jean laughs lightly, wiping a few beads of sweat from his brow, and is about to reply when an explosion rings out to our left. We both quickly pull out our guns and slowly make our way towards where the noise emanated. 

Rounding the corner into an alleyway beside an old liquor store, a Runner lies with the right side of its face and body blown off completely, blood splattering the wall next to it as well as a telltale patch of black soot presumably from the explosion. I tuck my pistol back into the waistband of my jeans. "This is some of their handiwork; they're fond of traps. Stay close and keep an eye out." We walk out and continue cautiously along the street. 

"What's the deal with these guys? I've never seen so many defenses for such a small town," Jean cuts in.

I choose my next words carefully as to not give Jean a bad impression, if he hasn't already. "There's no deal about it. Connie's just... He's really wary of the Infected, for reasons that it's not my business to tell. He likes to keep the two of them safe, you know?" 

Jean nods in understanding. "Can't say that I blame the guy. If one's called Connie, who's the other?" 

A fond smile graces my face. "That would be Sasha. She's a bit feisty and has almost no concept of personal space, but she's something. They're good people. They've helped with finding merchandise to smuggle into the city and got me out of a spot or two. Very good at finding things."

"Well, let's hope we don't blow up trying to find them." 

Oddly, I find myself laughing lightly before replying, "Like I said, just stick close and you'll be fine." 

"Yes, Sir," Jean replies, putting on a sarcastic, military like tone.

We manoeuvre around the rest of the town and its buildings carefully. At some point whilst making my way through another alley, I stop in front of a thin piece of wire strung at waist height in between the two walls, with one of the ends connecting to a small, white package nailed below. I motion for Jean to come closer and point towards it. "You see that wire? I think that triggers the explosion, so don't touch it. Just duck underneath them and you'll be fine." I demonstrate by slowly doing so. He nods in understanding and continues to follow quickly behind me. 

 

 

Nearing the centre of town, we're met with a long cargo truck blocking the road ahead. The top is lined with curled and sharp barbed wire, meaning a boost up wouldn't be possible. So I instead lead us around the outside of a few warehouse buildings as an alternative route, that is until we're faced with yet another blockade. I huff and scout the area around us for a moment when I spot that one of the doors to a warehouse had been left slightly ajar. I gesture to it as I start walking ahead of Jean, "Come on, this way."

Pulling the door open, upon stepping through I stumble slightly over a tripwire strung on the other side of the door, though thankfully I'm able to catch myself from falling. Ropes and wires fly in all directions around the open space of the warehouse, squeaking hinges and moving wheels for whatever reason and I can only stare at them in confusion, trying to keep up with their lightning speed. My eyes land on a refrigerator suspended in high the air by a thick rope in front of me. All too late, however, as the rope at my feet tightens around my foot while the fridge drops with a strangely suppressed thud, dragging my leg upwards and hoisting me into the air with it. The left side of my head knocks harshly against the concrete ground and I hear Jean call out my name as I'm ruthlessly pulled up, causing my vision to blur slightly while I'm left swinging upside down, arms flopping uselessly beside my ears. "Fuck! Goddammit, Connie!" 

Jean bolts around to my front and attempts to grab my shoulders, steadying me. Although I'm looking at him from a different angle, I can tell that he's desperately trying to suppress his laughter, biting his bottom lip tightly. Asshole. At least the guy waited to see if I was conscious before laughing at me. How gracious. 

I glare at him, but he only moves his hands down my arms and grips my biceps securely. He's now got this huge smile stretching across his face; not a smirk, or grin, no sign of a lip curl in sight. A genuine smile. It's strange; for a brief moment, all the tension and friction between us fades as I dangle there, staring at him in bewilderment and notice how his once sharp, piercing eyes have softened and crease slightly with the curve of his cheeks as he smiles. It's a nice change and had it shown in better circumstances I would have returned it with one of my own. Though, right now he's letting a few light chuckles tumble out from that smile so I continue to glare at him. 

He shakes his head, tousling his light hair and asks, "Oh my god, are you okay, man?" 

I roll my eyes. "Does it look like I'm okay?"

"Hey, hey, what happened to 'lose the attitude'? But I guess you're at least alive, judging by how much of a smartass you're being." He notices that my backpack was now awkwardly pressing more into my head than my back, so he moves and shuffles it off my arms, placing it down on the ground below before he takes a hold of my biceps once again. 

"Easy for you to say when you're not hanging upside down five-feet in the air with an almost dislocated foot." 

"Alright, alright. Want help packing your bags for that guilt trip? I'll try and find some way to get you down." He let's go of me and surveys the room for a moment, sharp eyes following the rope from me to the fridge. "Seem's like that refrigerator is acting as some kind of counterweight. Huh, looks like there was a mattress already there for it to drop onto; guess that's why it didn't make much noise. I'm going to try and cut the rope, just hold on." Jean turns around and jogs toward the refrigerator, climbing on top and crouching down to the thick knot of rope. He pulls out his switchblade and starts to saw. 

He's at it for several minutes without stopping, and, even from here, I can see beads of sweat gathering on his forehead and beginning to roll down the sides of his face. He takes a minute, panting heavily, before shrugging off his backpack and denim jacket, exposing the light grey hoodie underneath zipped up to his chest. He settles the pile down gently beside him and continues sawing. The movement of his arm pistoning fiercely is causing the refrigerator to rock back and forth slightly, even more so with the wobbly surface of the mattress under it. I can see his small bundle moving towards the edge and try to shout to him, but I'm too late as it's already falling off. "Jean, your bag-!"

It all happens in slow motion. Before his backpack completely falls, the pipe sticking out topples out first, clattering loudly on the concrete floor, followed by the bag itself making another loud bang. Jean stops sawing, cringing slightly and looks down at the bag and pipe. He shrugs and opens his mouth to talk, but a sudden eruption of piercing wails and cries roar from outside of the warehouse. I squint, looking out through the open garage doors in front and see a small heard of Infected quickly making their way towards us. I hurry to tug my pistol out of my waistband, fumbling with it and adjusting to the new upside down angle whilst calling to Jean, "Shit, here they come! Jean, hurry!" 

I fire almost wildly at the approaching Runners, taking as many as down as possible with this distorted view. Three bodies lie in the entrance way, but more are still coming towards us at impossible speed from the street ahead. 

"Marco, on your left!" 

My eyes fly in that direction and I'm instantly met with a Runner a few feet in front of me. I don't have time to think, to aim, it's already practically clawing at me. Instead, I rear my arm up and bash it's face with the butt on my handgun, disorientating it before shoving it away from me and shooting it in the forehead. Its body drops heavily to the ground and I continue to shoot at the other Infected. 

"Jean, some time today would be nice!" I shout to Jean from where he's still sawing desperately.

"I'm going as fast as I can, Jackass! This knife isn't meant for rope." 

I take two more down and am about to shoot again when the only sound that rings out is the dull click of my empty magazine. I waste no time in delving deep into my pocket and yanking out an already filled spare. In my urgency to pull it out, however, my hands fumble and the magazine drops to the floor, a few bullets spilling out in the process. I hurry to reach for it, stretching as far as I can, but to no avail, my fingers just barely skim over it. 

Jean suddenly yells at me from his spot on the fridge, "Over here! Catch this!" and I scramble to catch the pistol being flung at me, dropping the other to the ground in abandon and I thank every fucking deity up there that I actually caught the damn thing. Wasting no time, I continue to shoot at any Infected close by. 

A loud, shrill cry unlike the others bellows from outside. I dart my eyes forward and spot a Clicker charging through the open garage doors towards us, its mouth drawn open and tongue lolling out on a particularly piercing screech. In all the commotion and without the benefit of eyesight, it trips over the mattress and thumps sluggishly into the refrigerator. I hold my breath as the fridge tumbles to the ground taking Jean with it, who lets out a grunt and curses loudly when he lands flat on his back against the concrete.  
I panic and fire wildly at the Clicker, but to no avail; every bullet is just chipping at the thick, orange, yellow and red fungus surrounding its skull, some even lodging themselves into the stiff plates. 

My eyes fly to Jean as he cries out from in front. He's being pinned down against the floor by a Runner, both his arms are spread at full length above him holding the Infected in place while he kicks his legs furiously at it. His head is tossing back and forth, wriggling madly as he tries to evade the grabbing hands flailing in his face. 

The Clicker's still charging for me and I try to shoot at its legs, its stomach, its feet, throat, anything, just something to slow it down. It's so close now. So fucking close that I'm tempted to close my eyes and just let it happen. Its arms rear up, sharp fingers poised and ready, but their blow never comes. 

The subtle sound of a string drawing back and something flying through the air fills my left ear and suddenly blood is splattering on my cheek as an arrow stabs through the Clicker's neck. It sputters a few times and twitches before it drops heavily to the floor. There's a loud, muffled yell behind me accompanied by quick, thumping footsteps and I whip my head around to spot someone running through the open door behind me, a gas-mask covering their face and a long machete in hand. The shout had distracted the Infected long enough for Jean to push the Runner off of him, scurrying backwards on his ass while his hands search the floor for his switchblade. The man lunges in front of me and takes a wide swipe at the Runner in front of Jean, slicing the back of its knees and making it fall to the ground, crying out. Any other Infected coming through the doors are being put down almost immediately by the arrows flying through the air, most of them by an impressive single shot to the head. The Masked man hurries out and sweeps the front of the warehouse, taking out the remainder of the Runners with the help of the mystery archer. 

Jean moves quickly out of the corner of my eye and I look down to see him stabbing his knife into the Infected before him, halting all movements from it. He takes a few moments to steady himself, breathing heavily, before his head shoots up and his worried hazel eyes meet mine. He's on his feet in an instance, snatching the pistol from my hand and standing in front of me, his stance wide and protective as he aims at the Masked man as he walks through the garage doors toward us. 

The man stops and tilts his head to the side, light glaring off the thin metal trim around the black, opaque eye holes. The strap of a tattered, dusty green satchel drapes over his shoulder and across his torso, the bag coming to rest on his hip. _"Marco?"_ His voice is grainy and unrecognizable through the gas-mask.

Both Jean and I are left dumbfounded and it must show in our expressions, because the man lowers his hood and tugs off the mask so it falls loosely around his neck. I let out a sigh of relief. 

"Wha-what the hell are you doing here, man? The next meet up isn't scheduled for another month." Connie Springer remarks in a perplexed tone, his eyebrows furrowing as one side of his mouth itches up cheerfully.

I close my eyes for a moment and breathe in deeply. I open them and look hopelessly at him, a small smile gracing my own lips. "I need a favor, Connie."

He must know something is up; turning up here unannounced and needing help isn't exactly what I'm known to do by him. Yet he says nothing, save for a slight narrowing of his eyes for a second, and nods. Walking forward, he chortles, "Well, we can start by cutting you down first!" He looks Jean up and down, who still stands tense in front of me, but no longer brandishing the gun. Connie walks over to the refrigerator and calls over to him, "Hey you, guy, move that bag outta' the way will you? He's probably gonna' fall straight on that spiked bat and stab himself." Jean does so and stands back at a distance. "Brace yourself!"

Connie slices the rope with the machete and I fall like a newborn giraffe, the concrete against my back winding me slightly and I just lay there for a few moments gasping. He strides over and holds out a gloved hand towards me, of which I take gladly and he pulls me to my feet. Rather than letting go, he instead tugs me forward into a bear-hug, patting my sore back a little too roughly and squeezing me tightly. I chuckle breathlessly and try my best to return it while still attempting to actually breathe properly. 

He pulls away and cups a hand on my shoulder, looking up at me from where I practically tower over him and grins widely. "Even if the visit is unexpected, it's great to see you, man. Hey, where's Mi-?" A loud chorus of shrieks and cries interrupt us. Our heads whip around to the front of the warehouse, but see nothing there yet. We can't wait around here, though; that scream sounded far too near. "Shit," Connie murmurs. "Follow me, we can catch up later. Sash, you gonna' be alright up there?" 

I follow his gaze up to the roof where another hooded individual wearing a gask-mask, presumably Sasha, is poking their head through an open window and sticks their thumb up to us.

"Alright, come on," Connie instructs and jogs out the garage doors with Jean and I following close behind. 

 

 

 

We hurry through the town with Sasha providing cover fire from the rooftops and only encountering a few Runners as we went. Nearing the tall church, Connie leads us through the garden and around the side to a pair of basement doors coming out of the floor. He quickly shoves his key into the rusted padlock and opens them, holding it open for Jean and I to enter. The wooden stairs wobble and squeak as we walk hastily down them, with Connie turning to lock to doors again once we're safely inside. 

The three of us stand panting breathlessly for a few long moments before Connie shrugs off his satchel and gas-mask, tossing them clumsily onto the table stretched before him and flicks on the lights. I inspect the basement and find it surprisingly homey. With the whole thing consisting of a basic long rectangle shape with two small rooms branching off it, it's not lacking in size. Various shelves and storage containers line the walls, each abundant in supplies, canned, pickled and fresh food, weapons and ammo, as well as general knick-knacks that the pair has chosen to keep. To our left tucked away next to the stairs leading up into the church is a quaint living area illuminated by a tall lamp, featuring a ghastly, red three person couch and a smaller, more tasteful grey one opposite it, complete with a stained coffee table between them.

"Holy shit," Jean pants out. "Good job you turned up when you did, man. Thanks."

Connie beams at him, also huffing heavily while emptying the contents of his bag onto the long table and rifling through them. Jean follows suit, also placing his backpack on the side closest to us. 

I begin to pull off my own bag when a chorus of heavy, quick footsteps erupt from above us in the church, causing some plaster dust to fall down lightly from the ceiling. Jean's eyes look between Connie and I desperately, though Connie just continues to look up at the ceiling with a fond smile. The footsteps stop briefly before the door at the top of the stairs flies open and a firery redhead comes barreling down them, flying across the basement towards us. "Marco, Marco, Marco!" Sasha Braus yells out excitedly, taking extra care to stretch out the final 'O' on the third name until she reaches me and jumps up to grapple tightly onto my neck with her arms. I return the hug warmly, both because she have would probably toppled the two of us over had I not grabbed her for support and because Sasha is known to give the tightest, most bone crushing hugs that leave your sides aching and your lungs gasping for breath and I can't get enough of them. I am not above admitting that. 

"Hello to you too, Sasha." 

She releases me from her hold and I'm free to breathe again. She stays stood in front of me, her hands clasped together tightly with a bright, toothy grin splitting her face. Her dark ginger hair is tied back in a pair of long French braids. One messy plait falls onto her chest while the other is tucked behind her head, dropping down into the furry hood of her green parka. "It's been way too long! What are you doing here? Is everything okay? How are things in the QZ? Has anything happened-" 

"Woah, woah, calm down, twenty questions," Connie interjects. "Give the man some space, yeah? I mean, it looks as if the guy's been carrying his weight and-a-half judging by the bags under his eyes." 

I force out a laugh at that and try my best not to make it sound as dry as it feels. I guess it could be said that I was carrying some baggage at the moment, but there was no way I was about to unload that onto them. They didn't need to know, not yet. 

"Things are fine back there, a few Firefly problems and food shortages, but nothing unusual. I'm sorry for just dropping in unannounced like this, but I've got a big favor to ask and you're the only ones I could think of."

"And does this favor involve your new friend here?" Sasha asks teasingly, eyeing Jean up and down until he's squirming uncomfortably under her gaze. 

Rolling my eyes playfully, I answer, "Sasha, Connie, this is Jean. Jean, Connie and Sasha." She gives him a smile with a little wave and Jean gives a nod to them both in turn but makes no further comment. "Jean's been helping us out for a few months with a couple jobs here and there, some little, some big. He recently heard a rumor of an abandoned cargo distribution centre up near Jackson County packing some nice stuff, so thought we'd give it a try, get our heads out of Boston for a few weeks." 

I had practiced that lie over and over again in my head on the way here. I had gone over it and rehearsed it with Jean; we've known each other for six months and he had been helping me for five, he had heard the rumors around the Boston marketplace and we had been planning to go for a fortnight but hadn't found the right opportunity until now. 

Connie leans forward on his folded arms against the table. "Sounds good, man. Where's Mina? Is she still in the QZ or are you travelling separate?"

Jean had asked the same thing when I was going over the cover-up story before. I caught him turning his head slightly towards me out of the corner of my eye, almost checking on me, seeing if my facade would break or if I might give anything away. 

I bring a hand up to run through my hair and shake my head, closing my eyes. "No, she's... She's sick. N-not that kind of sick, don't worry, just some flu that's been going around. You know how easily she catches stuff like that." The smile on my face feels bitter and forced, cutting into my cheeks harshly.

"Awh, that sucks. I was hoping that she was going to turn up some time after you. It'd be great if we got to see both of you, but I guess you'll have to do, Freckles!" Sasha chortles, pulling off her quiver and walking towards the living area next to the stairs. 

My palm stings from how hard my fingernails press against it by the tightly formed fist in my jacket pocket. The basement falls silent for a few beats and I hope that Jean and I are the only ones who can feel the heavy shroud that has fallen over us. 

"So, Jackson County? As in Kansas City? That's some distance to travel just for a rumor. It's gotta' be, what, twenty days? Twenty-five?," Connie chimes in. 

"That is true, but if you remember right, the three of us met because of a rumor." 

"You say 'met', but you're leaving out the part where you almost ended up with one of Sasha's arrows through your eye!" 

I can't help but laugh at that and murmur, "Oh, believe me, I hadn't forgotten. I couldn't even stand close to her for months; Mina had to convince me to let her stand between us as my personal bodyguard just to make me come with her to our meets. I thought that she was some crazy lady."

"And I still am!" Sasha shouts from where she's putting her things away into a wooden cabinet by the stairs. 

After we're finished laughing at Sahsa's expense I pull up a chair at the table and sit down, meeting Connie's gaze. "As I said before, Connie, I need a favor; a big one." He sits down in the chair opposite while Jean at my right turns around and leans backwards onto the table, his neck craned facing us. I continue with a guilty sigh, "We need a car. Look, I know it's not an easy ask, but you're the only one I know who can get one running as well and as fast as you do. It would then only take us three days to get there, at most. We'd get there before all the other Scavvers and would probably get some much better loot out of it."

Connie only responds with a groan and hangs his head low. "Marco. I... Look, I love you, man, I do. But... Seriously? What, did you expect to turn up and I magically pull a fully functioning car out of my ass? I'm not even working on one right now, so, even if I wanted to, I wouldn't have the parts to start fixing on one up anyway."

"Well, how long does it take for you to get one started up again?" 

He facepalms, rubbing the top of his nose with his thumb and forefinger while replying, "It depends on the condition of the shell. Most of the ones around here are still in good shape, but it's useless even trying without a newer battery, a carburetor and fresh tires that haven't rotted and you know how hard those are to come across. The only ones who are making supplies like that are the military and I doubt they're feeling charitable enough to hand some over."

"Well, shit," I groan out, slouching and tilting my head back so that I'm staring at the ceiling. 

"You know," Comes a pondering voice and the three of us look at Sasha across the basement. "There was that truck at the high-school, Connie." 

"We've talked about this, Sash, the risk is just too high for it and the payout won't be worth it-" 

"Too high when it's just the two of us, but with Marco and Jean that makes four. Sure, it wouldn't be easy, but then we'd at least stand a chance at getting inside."

"Erm," I interrupt. "What's at this high-school?"

Connie dramatically drags a hand back and forth over his freshly shaven buzzcut. "A few weeks back, a military supply caravan passed over the highway close by, usually about eight or nine vehicles between them. One of the trucks thought that it might be a quicker route to cut through Lincoln by ramming through one of our barricades. Long story short, they lost control and crashed into the school on the other side of town, attracting a fuckton of Infected that haven't left the area." 

These guys have had a fully stocked supply truck just sitting in there town for weeks and haven't even bothered to go check it out; seriously? Priorities, man. "So, the hope is that this truck has all the new, fresh and juicy goods you need to get a car up and running?" 

"Or, depending on the condition of it, you could just take that. Although it was crashed into a building, it may still be good since the army makes them to last, gotta' be tough and hardy. We have checked it out from a distance, but the front is buried in the gym of the school so we'd have to take a closer look to get any ideas about it." 

I lean forward on my elbows towards Connie, a grin on my face. "How many Infected are we talking?" 

"More than me and Sasha can handle on our own," he chuckles. 

"And with the four of us, like Sasha said, we'd stand a chance-"

"We'd stand a chance at getting ourselves killed. Four bodies are more to keep track of, make more noise, cause more problems and will attract more Infected."

"Me and Jean aren't exactly amateurs in this, Connie. It's not like you've got to lug around two kids, we can handle ourselves." 

"Like how well you handled yourselves earlier? If we hadn't have shown up, you pair would have been dead-"

"Yes," I stop myself, realizing how loud our voices had gotten and reel myself back a little. "Yeah, we would have been. So I guess I owe you one there. But there was only two of us back then, just like how there's only two of you. A pair on their own doesn't stand a chance, but four together just might. It's the only option we've got. I'm sure that you're at least a little curious about what they were carrying in that truck and this is your only chance to find out."

He's silent for a long moment, staring so hard into the wood grain of the table that I think his eyes might bore two holes straight through it. Sasha moves and comes up behind him, placing a gentle hand on each of his shoulders and he arches his neck to face her. She gives him a faint smile and a shrug. Connie turns back to us and inhales, closing his eyes tightly. Upon the exhale, without opening them, he breathes out, "Fine."

I smile widely and extend a hand towards him. "Thanks, Con." 

He scoffs in mock disgust and swats it away, standing up and walking over to the barred basement window. Looking out for a few moment, he pulls up his sleeve and inspects his watch before he walks back over to us. "It'll be dark in a few hours so there's no use in trying anything tonight. Besides, you guys look like you need a clean up and a rest. You've got blood all over your front, dirt on your back and your friend's got dried mud caked everywhere in his hair. At least, I hope it's mud."

On instinct, Jean brings a hand up to his head and picks at his hair, laughing breathlessly. "'Was raining when we got out of Boston; I slipped and fell face-first. I cleaned my face up best I could, but I had forgot about the rest until now." 

Connie laughs boisterously, much to Jean's displeasure. "Well, we've got a water purifier out back so you're welcome to clean yourselves and your clothes up." 

Sasha pokes her head out from where she had disappeared into the side-room ahead of us. "Hey, I bet you guys are starving. I've had a deer that I caught the other day stewing since lunch, so you're welcome to share it with us!" I can feel my mouth watering just at the thought of it. I can't remember the last time I ate actual food, food that hadn't come from a tin or airtight, foil packet. I follow her into the other room and find that she's made a kitchen out of it, complete with a stove over a fire, shelves packed with jarred fruit, tinned goods and fresh vegetables. 

I pick up a carrot from the counter in front of me and inspect it, holding it so delicately as if it were made of pure gold. "Where the hell did you get fresh stuff like this? Back in the Boston QZ, a carrot this size would cost you at least, like, 10 ration cards."

She puffs her chest proudly. "I've got a small grow of fruit and veg in the church gardens. It's got a greenhouse and everything, I'll show it you tomorrow when we go out. The soil is great for it. You should have turned up a month later instead, the yield is great at the end of September. We eat like rabbits!" She lifts the lid off the stew pot and gives it a stir. The smell of it is God-like. "The only problem is storing it. You've got to use them up quickly or else they'll go bad, and we haven't got a fridge to keep them in or anything like that to make them last longer. Connie say's there's no use in repairing on because it'll drain too much power from the generators, or something." I nod and look over her shoulder at the stew while she stirs. "You can keep that if you'd like, and here, take that for Jean." She hands me a red apple with a kind smile. 

I thank her generously and walk out to find Jean stood in the same position against the table with his back to me. Connie's shuffling around noisily in the second room splitting off from the basement leaving Jean on his own. He's looking down at his right arm, his left hand moving back and forth over his forearm and I realize with a pulse of shock that he's tracing the bite hidden under the sleeve of his denim jacket. For the first time since meeting him, I truly think about the situation he's in. I can't imagine what he must be thinking, what he must be feeling. How did he initially react to getting bitten? What had been going through his mind for the past three weeks since it happened? He must be so scared. Shit, I know I would be. 

"Hey," I call to him and his head darts around in surprise. He must have not heard me leave the kitchen. "Here, a gift from Sasha." I toss the apple to him and he catches on instinct. Once he realizes what it actually is he's holding, his eyes go wide in shock, mouth gaping open slightly. 

He shifts it in his hand a few times before he turns completely around to face me, meeting my eyes. "Seriously? Fresh meat and fresh fruit? Who are these people?" He brings the apple up to his face and, I swear to god, sniffs it dubiously.

I laugh lightly and he gives me a glare, though making no effort to move the fruit away. "They're real and they're safe to eat, she grows them herself. See," To prove my point I take a chomp out of my carrot, the loud snap resonating loudly in the quiet basement. 

Jean raises an eyebrow, eyeing me doubtfully until I've fully swallowed it. He then quickly brings the apple up to his face and takes a huge bite out of it and, I swear to god, moans obscenely, tipping his head back and closing his eyes while he chews. "Good right?" I chuckle, and he only responds by holding his thumb and forefinger together out in an 'Okay' sign, shaking it vaguely in my direction. 

The door to the other room opens and Connie walks out wearing a pair of blue sweatpants and a bright red hoodie. I can feel myself squint, blinded by the hideous colour combination while I cringe internally. He's carrying a small pile of neatly folded clothes in each hand and, once he's close enough, gives one to me and the other to Jean. "These are for you to wear while your current outfits are being cleaned. I tried to find some that would fit you, but I'm not making any promises. I know, I know I'm so generous - no, no please don't be so quick and trip over yourselves trying to thank me," He says sarcastically, though it only makes Jean and I grin widely at him. "The bedroom's over there if you'd like to get changed in that, just, don't mind the mess. We weren't expecting visitors." With that he walks back over to the table and continues to finish emptying his satchel. 

The two of us stand awkwardly waiting for a few moments for before Jean has enough and walks toward the bedroom, pulling the door shut behind him. I turn and place my clothes pile on the table while I wait. Connie's hauling some interesting things from his satchel; a clock with the face smashed, lone screws upon screws with none of them matching, bunches of cutlery, countless CDs, a- 

I'm forceably taken away from the pile as the bedroom door creaks open a little and Jean pokes his head and shoulder out, but nothing more, eyeing me bashfully. He arches his eyebrows and opens his eyes wide, nodding towards the inside of the room. My eyebrows knit in confusion and I tilt my head to the side a little, why isn't he coming out? He rolls his eyes heavily and opens the door enough to wave me over with his left arm. Picking up my bunch of clothes, I make my way over to the bedroom, ducking inside with Jean hurriedly shutting the door behind me. I turn quickly and face him, what the hell is wrong with him? 

Jean's stood by door in a pair of grey sweats and a loose fitting white T-shirt. He brings a hand up and points to my own pile of clothes. "Look, I'm sorry to ask, man, but did Connie give you anything with, you know... long sleeves?" He asks uncertainly in a hushed voice and gestures to the sizable faded bite on his right forearm. Ooh, I get it now. 

Shuffling through the pile I mumble, "Uh, let me check, hold on." I cringe a little at the yellow and black checkered lounge pants Connie had generously gifted me, though I am thankful for the mismatched pair of socks. Under the pants is a tightly folded black fabric. Tossing the clothes onto the bed, I grab the shoulders of the top and shake it gently until it reveals a simple black hoodie. "Here, this should do," I hand it to him and he takes it with a grateful smile. 

Seeing no point in going out to only come back in again, I walk around to the other side of the bed and mumble, "You mind if I...?" pulling a little on the chest of my own dirtied green undershirt.

"Oh, no, no. Go ahead." 

Nodding a little, I begin to get undressed, avoiding looking over at the other side of the room. Only when I'm stood there shirtless wearing those god awful yellow pants do I realize I now have nothing to wear on my upper half. Looking over at Jean I catch him tugging the hoodie over his head and, I'll admit, he's in better shape then I thought, he's got a smaller build than myself but not quite as skinny as that denim jacket makes him look. When his light hair starts to poke out of the top, I turn quickly and study the floor at my feet intently. After a few beats I look back up and find him already looking in my direction. When his eyes meet mine, a small flush spreads over his nose. It's faint and had he not been so pale I probably wouldn't have noticed it, but it's there. 

Taking pity on the guy, I smile at him and gesture to the white T-shirt he had thrown onto the side of the bed closest to him. "S-shit, sorry. I didn't realize," He stammers out, handing it to me.

Tugging on the shirt, I'm having to hold in a laugh at how much of a dork he's being. He was acting so cold and serious before, but get him in the same room as someone shirtless and the guy turns into a stuttering mess. I give him the benefit of the doubt and say to myself that it's because he's embarrassed about the bite. I turn and tug my fresh socks on while Jean opens the door and leaves without another word and I shake my head a little, laughing at nothing. 

Upon exiting the bedroom, I find Connie's stare instantly, a knowing smirk on his face and an eyebrow raised. Closing my eyes, I shake my head and try my best to ignore his gaze, scanning the room to see where Jean had got off to. I find him tucked away in the living area on the grey couch finishing the rest of his apple and walk over, plopping down onto the red couch opposite. It's surprising comfy, though that could be because I haven't rested my legs for about twelve hours. Either way I'm thankful for it, and tilt my head back to rest against the cushions, breathing deeply. 

"Stews gonna' be about ten minutes guys, so I hope you're hungry! Connie, would you get some clean bowls out for me, please?" Sasha says as she pokes her head out of the kitchen, but makes a face while eyeing Jean and I. "There's some water pails in here, come clean up your nasty faces."

 

 

 

Dinner was amazing. Truly, it had to be the best meal I've had in months and I lean back against the thick cushions of the couch contently, an arm strewn over my stomach. Jean's at my right looking equally as content. Connie and Sasha are sitting close together on the opposite couch, wrapped up in one-another. It's cute for a moment or two, then Connie lets out this god-awful belch and I swear I can smell it from here. Sasha protests noisily, swatting at his arms and ignoring his pleas of _'It had to come out, I couldn't just hold it forever!'_. 

She folds her arms dramatically and turns her back to him facing the wall. Connie rolls his eyes and playfully starts kicking her back with his bare feet until she's laughing hard and trying to hit his legs without actually facing him, so she's kind of just swatting blindly in any direction behind her right now. "And besides, if Marco and Jean weren't here, you'd be doing it as much as me!" Connie gasps out in between kicks. 

Her head flies around in mock disgust. "Connie Martain Springer, how dare you accuse me of such a thing! I have never once let out a burp in my life," she says proudly with a solemn hand held to her chest, her head high. "And even if that were true, which it absolutely is not, I'd never do it while we were cuddling." 

I can't help but chuckle as Connie jokingly hugs her close while she attempts to wriggle away from his iron grasp. "Awh, I'm sorry, Sash. I promise I'll _never_ do it again." He pulls away and holds up his palm while making an 'X' over his chest with the other hand, "Scouts honor." 

They sit sniggling for a moment before they both burst into laughter. Sasha shoves his shoulder gently and teases, "Connie, you're such a dork!" 

Getting up, he sticks his tongue out. "The dorkiest. But you love me," he says, walking over the main table and picking something up. 

"Yeah and you're lucky for it!" Sasha calls to him. 

"The luckiest," He says with a fond smile. He looks down at his hand and I can see now that it's his wristwatch. "Damn, it's almost ten. You guys wanna hit the hay?" I nod blearily, getting up help him fish some blankets out of a huge pile of folded fabric. I hear Jean get up behind me and mumble something about taking a piss. Sasha grabs a torch and leads him upstairs into the church. 

I set up my makeshift bed on the red couch while Connie throws a few blankets and pillows onto the grey one for Jean. Sitting down, I look over at him. "Hey, Con?" He faces me from where he stands next to their bedroom, a hand against the door frame. "Thanks, man. Really. I'm- I'm sorry for just springing the two if us on you guys so suddenly, you didn't have to help us out, but I'm grateful that you did," I try and give him the most honest smile I can currently muster. 

He returns it, replying, "You know it's no bother, Marco. The way we see it, you're family. Even if you brought along an unexpected extra." The corners of his mouth itch up as a sleazy smile creeps over his features. "Speaking of, are you and Jean...?" He makes a gesture with his hands and I scoff at him. 

"N-no. No nothing like that. I told you, he's just someone I - we - work with. I barely know the guy."

Connie holds his hands up honestly. "Hey, just curious, what with the two of you, you know, getting changed together and all. Kinda gave off a vibe, but maybe that's just me," He shrugs and opens the bedroom door, wishing me a goodnight before closing it behind him. 

I groan to myself as I hold my head in my hands. He can't be serious, can he? I mean, sure, Jean wasn't a bad looker and all - but no, just no. I had only known the guy like a day or something and he seems like far too much of an asshole for my liking; too serious and stubborn. Even if I was remotely interested, I'm adult enough to know that I'm not in the right state of mind to be that close to someone; it would only end in fire and fuck us both over. I try to ignore how hot my face feels in my hands and I'm silently thankful for the low light of the basement. 

The door at the top of the stairs clicks open and I hear Sasha and Jean coming down the steps. Sasha says night to us both and heads off her room leaving the two of us alone.

I clear my throat and nod towards the pile of sheets and blankets. "Those are yours," I mumble, "For tonight." 

He nods and begins to set out the sheets to his liking. I don't much care for it so I turn my back on him and lay down, tugging my blanket over me. It's surprisingly soft, not like the tough, scratchy material of my own back in Boston. It's nice. Just as Jean stops shuffling noisily behind me and my eyes are fluttering shut, he speaks up quietly. 

"Do you... Do you mind if I leave the light on?" 

I laugh silently at that; a sour-faced, stubborn asshole who's scared of the dark. Cute. 

"Yeah, go ahead." 

 

 

 

_l'm being blinded by a dazzling, angry, white light, blurring my vision. It's everywhere I turn, at my feet, my sides, behind me; I can't escape it. It's like some kind of Godly ray, shining on me from all angles, distorting my sight and senses, to the point where I don't even know which direction I'm standing. Left? Right? Am I upside down? Lying down? Hanging from somewhere?_

_My knees buckle suddenly as I feel a dead weight hit my arms, like I'm holding something. I'm definitely standing. Looking down at my chest, I can see only white. I can't even see my body, no hands or feet. I wriggle my toes and it feels wet and slimy, sludge squelching between them unnaturally. There's a couple of hard, sharp shards hidden in the layers, as well as some thin, dry pieces that break and snap under my feet. Twigs? And, maybe, pebbles?_

_A booming, static voice erupts around me, flooding my ears and, had it not been for the weight in my arms I'd reach up to cover them._

_'Three... Perimeter...Waiting... Objective...'_

_I dart my head around, searching for the source of the voice. It gets louder and louder with each word. Where is it coming from?!_

_'I... I can't...'_

_I'm breathing heavier now, beginning to clutch tight onto the unknown weight for support. The world around me starts to spin, slowly at first, getting faster and faster and faster until my knees buckle and I collapse onto them, still holding the weight against my chest. It's heavier now._

_'There's kids!' And the spinning stops._

_I'm forced onto my feet again facing forward, unable to move my head, my eyes, anything. I'm staring into the source of the blinding light; I can see now that it's a flashlight, pointing angrily at me. The area behind the flashlight is pitch-black. It's deep and unsettling and I try to step forward towards it._

_Stop right there!' I try to stop, I really do. I try to keep my legs from moving, from pacing towards the light and the voice and the blackness behind it, but I can't. They won't respond, they won't listen and I'm terrified as I walk._

_One step and the blackness grows larger._

_Another and the light shines brighter._

_A third step and everything happens at once._

_My foot hits the sludge and a deafening bang explodes in front of me from the flashlight, pushing me back and I'm suddenly falling. A young girls scream fills my head and I squeeze my eyes shut in attempt to block it out. My mind reels, as if I'm doing somersaults over and over again and I can't even begin to try and control myself. My movements are beyond me right now._

_My bare feet suddenly hit something. It's flat and cold and hard and smooth as I wriggle my toes into it. I open my eyes. I recognize the round, stone room. The sleek pillars littered around the room stand strong and the wide, long windows seem far bigger than before, but there's no light outside for them to let in. The Massachusetts Statehouse. The Capitol Building._

_The heavy weight in my arms shifts and I look down at it. A pair of huge, brown eyes framed by messy, black hair stare up at me. Mina. I open my mouth to speak, but I can't find my voice, choking on air. Her eyes smile, but her mouth doesn't budge and I feel my eyebrows knit in confusion. It's uncomfortable. She flicks one of her pigtails off her shoulder to reveal the same gaping, bloody, festering bite I remember. I'm shaking. My eyes force themselves to rake their way back up to her face, but it's different now. Her once big, hopeful brown eyes are now dull and hazy with no light behind them. Her irises are now a pale white, the veins contrasting harshly in and around her eyes. It's terrifying.  
She's not looking at me, though. Not really. Her gaze looks straight through me and beyond, leaving me feeling so small under it. _

_Mina's mouth begins to open. Her signature front teeth stare back at me and I can only continue to unwilling look. It opens wider and wider and wider still, the crushing darkness inside her mouth is suffocating. There's no other teeth, no tongue or throat, just the same blackness as before. It continues to open impossibly wider still, when a sudden hand claws the back of my neck roughly and forceably pushes me down into the darkness of her jaws._

 

 

 

My eyes fly open and I lay there disorientated. My hair cakes to my sweat drenched forehead and the T-shirt I'm wearing feels damp. I try to calm my breathing, coming out in fast, short puffs. 

"Marco? Are you... Are you okay?" Jean's quiet voice makes me jump in the still lit room and I bolt up on instinct, sitting up with my hands fisted in the sheets at my sides, darting to look at him. 

He's sat cross legged on his couch, his hands fiddling with the long sleeves of the hoodie he's wearing. His blonde hair is ruffled and mussed with sleep, sticking up wildly in all directions. Concerned hazel eyes meet mine and, in my panicked state, I can't bring myself to part with them. I stare at him a while longer while I calm myself and he shifts uncomfortably under my gaze. "Marco?" He repeats. 

Bringing a hand up to my forehead, I feel how sweaty I actually am and I suddenly feel filthy. I tug the T-shirt off and rub at my face and hair with it. Leaning back against the couch cushions until I remember Jean's still there. "'m fine," I mumble out, dragging a heavy hand down my face. "Just... Just a dream." 

Just a dream. That's all. 

He nods slowly and gets up from the couch, walking across the basement somewhere, but I don't bother to watch him. My hazy eyes are still fixed on the spot where he was sat, the fuzziness in my head preventing me from tearing them away. I can hear Jean's silent feet padding across the flooring towards me. 

"Here. Drink." He's holding a fresh glass of water directly under my nose and I think for a minute that he's going to pour into my mouth for me. 

I take the glass from him and take a small sip to satisfy him, when I realize just how dry my mouth actually is and bring it up again to chug half of it in one go. How did he know? I meet his face and nod slightly. "Thanks." Jean seems satisfied enough with that response and settles himself back into his little nest opposite mine, sitting up and tugging a blanket around himself. 

We're quiet for a long while after that. I gingerly sip at my water while Jean picks at his nails. 

"You talk in your sleep, you know." 

"Oh." Another sip. 

"No- I... What I mean is that-," He huffs. "You don't have to explain it and you don't have to explain yourself, alright? I get it." 

And, honestly, that's just what I needed. In a way, I'm grateful for how distant he is, unquestioning, unwanting, silent. Having someone asking questions and bothering me right now would only grate on me and their pleas would fall on deaf ears. 

I finish the rest of my water in one big gulp and set it down on the coffee table, eyeing Jean with a small, genuine smile on my lips. "That mean's a lot. Thank you, Jean."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hellooo hunnies 
> 
> Do hope you enjoyed after the 23 month wait C: 
> 
> Btw my tumblr is @ruder-ouge if you wanted to give me some feedback or let me know what you think so far on there as well x


End file.
